Bribe and Prejudice
by auntytany
Summary: QUINNTANA AU. Professor Lopez was exasperated by her students' lack of interest in Literature. Only a minority had reached her high expectations. And we were talking about a Yale class of Literature, they were supposed to be studious sharks. Miss Quinn Fabray however, had excellence flowing in her veins.
1. Why oh so serious, Quinn?

Santana stood up from her desk under dozens of students' stare. She readjusted her tight skirt and put her glasses on, squinting slightly out of habit. She leaned in front of the desk and opened her book. She was now more than ready to start her weekly torture.

"So on another note... I asked you to read a masterpiece for the test, Pride and Prejudice, for those of you-" her eyes roamed with sharp intention. "- who forgot. And when I meant reading it, I did not mean watching that Knightley's anorexic ass movie _or _that dumb Bollywood flick which almost left me _blind_. Now I'm going to ask once, and once only… who actually read it? Who wants to explain it?"

A couple of students scribbled seriously on their notepads, heads bent low in the hope Professor Lopez would not call on them. Others remained stoic and unflinching. Each and everyone of them had their own ways and tricks to hide the fact that no, they did had not read it. Yale had so much more to offer than Jane Austen's books. Or in other words, the sorority girls late party which had happened the evening before had taken precedence over Jane Austen and her literature.

"No candidates? It's your chance to raise the insanely low grades you got in your last test," Santana bent slightly over her desk, grabbed a bundle of sheets which she had corrected the previous night. "If no one wants to take a chance, I won't have any other choice but start by the lowest grades and check one by one who read the book..."

Flies were resonating through the heavy silence. Nobody dared to cough or even clear their throats, fearing their professor's wrath.

Santana sniffed, waiting for the first victim to squeak out a hapless, half-assed answer. "The lowest grade in this class is an F. That, ladies and gentlemen, means that if my red pen grazes that sheet again, it will be enough ink to rewrite Wuthering Heights." Her eyebrow arched. Nobody moved. 'For shame, Heathcliff!" she crowed, sighing when no one caught the reference

A student kicked Quinn's chair. The blonde looked back, seeing her friend insisting with big eyes for her to save their lazy asses. Quinn sighed. "Not again..." she whispered.

"She's gonna lower our grades! Again!" her friend pleaded. Quinn shrugged and raised her hand.

"Miss Fabray," Santana let out somewhat gratefully, holding her smirk. This particular name always burned her lips. She slowly walked to her, checking through the bundle in her arms pile for Quinn's specific paper. "On charity duty again?"

"Pardon?" Quinn faux-frowned, trying to pull back the smile that threatened to emerge.

Santana put her best student's test on her desk. "With an A+, I doubt you're in need to raise your grades with an oral examination."

"You know how much I love them," Quinn muttered, barely audible to anyone else.

The professor snorted softly. "Why are you saving your classmates today? Pool party like last week?" she said a bit louder than needed, erasing with her natural bossy tone Quinn's comment and her own reddening blush.

"Alpha Beta Sigma annual gala," Quinn laughed. A couple of students were already crumpling over their desks, pre-empting the torture session their teacher would start in consequence.

Quinn was willing to help the class, yet she could never lie to her teacher. And the latter very well knew this. Sometimes, Santana let it go when she was having a bad day. There were days when she craved for those long well structured speeches that were so relieving when she was hearing students stammering google researches all day long.

"Oh I see... Well done, well done... Then I guess such a glorious occasion needs glorious celebration," she walked back to her desk, taking her time.

Her heels drummed on the tiled floor, like gunshots piercing through the students' guilt. She sat back, sniffling once in a while to emphasize the seriousness of the situation. She slowly checked every single paper, making two piles. She classed dozens of papers, some immaculate, some bleeding in red inked corrections. She hated doing this, yet she had no choice. She had to classify her students in two sections, the ones who were good enough to pass but had encountered little bumps in the road, and the ones who were doomed to an obvious fail. Once she was done, she leaned back against her desk and crossed her arms.

"You know the rules. On my left are the ones who will face serious consequences. I'll prepare a three hours long test and no absence is allowed, pass it on for those currently curing their hangovers. On my right, respite: I'll check your reading next time since you all will have read the book by then."

She let her back fall against the chair. She looked almost defeated. "I don't know what to do anymore to get you interested in Literature," she growled. "I tried underground pieces, masterpieces, best sellers... What do I have to do to get you to read a book for the Literature class you signed up for? I never asked you to be here, you chose so take charge of your responsibilities. This is _Yale_, not high school. I'm not lecturing on Fifty shades of Grey so you can get a boner and actually find some kind of interest in what is happening in this class. Pull yourselves together, I am not going to repeat this until the end of the year," she sighed, beyond done. "Dismissed."

The students rushed to the desk to see in which pile their paper was. The crowd stormed out, escaping before their teacher could have second thoughts and give detention to the whole class. As usual, Quinn was the last to leave. The smiling blonde grabbed her paper with sure fingers, the last to stand by the desk.

"A+, lucky me," she teased.

"You described the issues of Darcy and Elizabeth's confrontation on power and equality with striking smartness. I have nothing to add to what you wrote," Santana answered calmly, relaxed. This was nothing compared to the beast her students witnessed everyday.

"I just understand Elizabeth very well, I suppose," Quinn replied, smirking.

"Does someone fit in your Darcy's shoes, then?" Santana said after a quick check to the open door. She tried to hide her conniving, somewhat smug, smile.

Quinn raised a playful eyebrow. She turned on her heels, sure that they would pursue this conversation some other time. She skipped through the hallways to join her group of friends.

"Seriously guys, we're fucked. How are we supposed to read that damn book with the History essay and the English test coming up?" Tina complained.

"Come on, it's not that long!" Quinn tried to ease them.

Mercedes scowled. "Oh you have no say, girl! You're a bookworm, so your opinion is not relevant to our conversation." Quinn giggled and shrugged. "And don't you dare make fun of us! You know, we have lives, unlike you."

"I have a very fulfilling social life, thank you."

Tina snorted, "No, you don't! You're always at your aunt's."

"Girls, that's not the point. We can study together, I can help you if you need but I can't read the book for you!"

Her friends stopped walking and clenched Quinn by the elbows, malicious in their intent. "You're gonna help us, Quinn. Oh yeah, you will..." Mercedes sang. Tina poked her playfully.

Quinn laughed, "alright, alright... I'm gonna explain everything but you'll have to bribe me with free beers."

"Oh my god, yes! Anything if you can help us to not fail that damn' class," Tina cheered. "She's so hard on us..."

Quinn listened to her friends debating the firmness of their teacher. She said nothing, didn't defended either the teacher or her friends. Mercedes and Tina believed that it was the blonde's temper. She was just a very good student, the best in the class. She didn't seem into gossip, that was all. Despite her obvious lack of interest in bitchy opinions over teachers, Mercedes and Tina never suspected anything. Her inner seriousness explained her behavior just fine. That was nothing to feel weird about.

That night, Quinn was the teacher. She detailed everything her friends might need not to fail Professor Lopez's class. They were emptying beer after beer, their drunk minds traveling through English poetry giddily. Hours later, Quinn had explained everything she possibly could and relaxed on the sofa of her friends' dorm room.

"I think I might just go now. If I manage to find my way back home," Quinn giggled.

"Dead serious Quinn, I know you love your aunt and stuff, but why don't you just get a room in the dorm like last year? We miss you around, you always have to leave so early..."

"But I love living with her," Quinn stared at her shoes.

"We just miss you, we miss our late nights," Mercedes tapped on her friend's shoulder.

"Let's just compromise, I'll stay for the night more often," she smiled, reassuring. They beamed back at her.

"Why not tonight? It's Friday night, we can give you spare clothes for tomorrow morning!" Tina offered, thrilled. "Stay tonight!"

Quinn's eyes went wide. "No, not like that... My... my aunt, she'll worry if she doesn't see me coming home."

"Come on, it's just sad," Mercedes pouted. "Give her a call and stay!"

"Next Friday, promise. As long as she knows before, it's on for the night," she said already putting her stuff back in her bag.

"You're no fun, Quinn..."

"We're gonna get wasted next Friday and you can put the pictures on Facebook if you want," Quinn winked.

Considering how serious and calm Quinn was, that proposition was simply gold. "You better get wasted girl! You only have two options to make it up for your lame and boring-ness: Either you drink until you throw up, or you find a girl to sleep with! That's what I call fun!" Mercedes laughed.

Quinn forced a chuckle. Ready to leave, she hugged her friends. "We'll see, but the most important is to spend time together, right?"

"You bet it is..." Tina cooed through the tight hug.

"Have a nice week-end cleaning your aunt's stockings!" Mercedes shouted when Quinn passed the door, giggling.

Quinn walked slowly so as not to get any attention, which was her main goal, always. Be the most discreet possible, do not get any attention either from the teachers or the students. She wanted to be invisible, not to have anybody care about her, excluding her best friends who fulfilled her social life at school just fine. Crawling along the dorms' hallways walls like a cat, nobody could have heard her.

As always, her silent dance drastically changed when she exited the campus area, heading to the bus station. She ran, drumming on the cold pavement as fast as she could to reach the bus that would bring her to her own dreamland. As always, she took the same seat on the last row, shrinking low and smiling at the fact that the driver and other students were oblivious to her presence as the bus headed downtown. Checking twice that nobody had seen her, she took a second bus that would stop right in front of her destination, a place where she shouldn't be ever seen going to by any students or professors. That was the deal. She couldn't and shouldn't take any risk to let anyone figure out where she was heading every night. She, they, couldn't afford any suspicion.

When her key unlocked the house's front door, her heart felt heavy. It was so late, the street and the house were dark and silent. She took her shoes off softly by the entrance so as not to make any sound. She took her coat and scarf off on her path to the bedroom, leaving her items here and there. She turned the handle with a gentleness only love could provide. The room was in the dark just like the rest of the house, the closed blinds making it even dimmer, but Quinn knew the way to the bed by heart. Her bed. She got rid of her skirt and all that would be uncomfortable to sleep in and left everything on a chair close to the door. She followed the calm breathing escaping the sheets to guide her through the black night, and softly, she slid into the bed.

She cuddled against the body sleeping with their face smushed into the pillows. "I'm home..." she whispered lovingly.

At the warm and reassuring contact, Santana was slowly pulled out from her dreaming. "I missed you tonight," she croaked turning around to face her girlfriend.

"Sorry, I had to make sure my two dumbass illiterate friends don't fail your class," Quinn whispered with a joking smile, her eyes already drifting closed now that her body began to warm in the presence of Santana's body heat.

Santana chuckled tiredly. "Come here..." she opened her arms to welcome her sweetheart and lazily kissed her, fighting her heavy sleepiness.

"I missed you too," Quinn cooed, obviously having craved to be in those arms all night.

Santana's smile spoke volumes about how in love she was, how dear it was to her to be pulled from sleep by sweet words and this pretty face. She snuggled in the crook of her neck, taken away by Quinn's sweet perfume. Yes, dating her student might have been against the school's rules and perhaps even against consensus, yet Quinn was her drug. When she was snuggling against her neck, when she felt that warm body cuddling against her and a loving hand stroking her back, Santana had no other choice than admit that Quinn was not only her drug, but that it would kill her if she had to kiss that paradise goodbye.


	2. Shared Guilt

Santana scratched at the leather of her car's wheel nervously. "I hate doing this, I just hate it."

"I told you, I can go alone! You don't have to drop me at the bus station. I don't mind taking those two buses," Quinn reassured softly.

"No, it's not about dropping you. It's about having to drop you. I wish we could just go to campus together every morning. _This," _she shook her hands dramatically, gesturing along the car."It's ridiculous. I'm happy to drive you to that damn bus station because you know, we're together. That's what people who love each other are supposed to do. I'm supposed to drive you to work every morning because you don't have a car, and because I love you, I want to make your life easier... I love our life together... But I can't go further than this fucking bus station and it's killing me."

Quinn breathed out, agreeing silently. She stroked her girlfriend's tense leg, playing with the edge of the pedal in the stopped car. "I know..."

"I hate knowing you taking that creepy bus that smells like hangovers and drug addicts just because we're playing safe."

Quinn chuckled. "You're making it sound way worse than it actually is. I just sit in the back and listen to music on my Ipod. It's just a bus, sweetheart, a fifteen minutes ride. It's fine!"

"Well, it's not fine to me," Santana muttered almost childishly, sadly peeking down at her shoes.

"Four months," Quinn grabbed Santana's face by the chin to force her to look at her. "Just four little months to go and we'll be free. Four months is nothing in a lifetime."

"Yeah, I know... You'd better graduate Quinn, because my heart won't take another year like this."

Quinn raised a mocking eyebrow. "Have you seen my grades lately?"

Santana smiled, diving in those green eyes she was so fond of. "You know I didn't mean it that way... I just long for the day we can walk outside, not only together, but holding hands," she said around a sad shrug. "I'm 28, I have a gorgeous girlfriend I'm so proud of and yet, we have to stay locked inside our house because of some reactionary douche bags. It just makes me sick..."

Quinn gave her a kiss, a long and soft kiss, Santana's favourite type of kiss. Perhaps that'd help to erase the bad day shaping up in Santana's mind. It was one of those days, when this situation felt like too much. Lately, they were having more and more of those. Living together locked in kept aggravating the situation. They were dreaming about romantic getaways, incredible travels like ... going to the movies together. Going to the restaurant or being able to have your girlfriend meet your friends. Going to the grocery store together for the weekly fridge filling. Such adventurous treks they were thinking of ...

"Sweetie, if it's too hard for you... we can stop hiding. Remember that we checked Yale's rules, it's not forbidden... technically," Quinn tried.

"Yet in people's mind, it is," Santana stated, almost coldly. "I love you way too much to risk sullying your reputation. They'd say that you bribed me with sexual advances to get your grades and they'd reconsider your skills. I don't care about my career but I do care about Yale questioning your talent, Quinn."

"Don't say that... I'm willing to pay the consequences if it's the only way for you to be happy with me."

"But I am happy with you! I am, I truly am! I just... It's sad for you."

"What?!" Quinn started.

"It's not what college years are supposed to be. You're supposed to work and have fun, enjoy your youth the best you can-"

"Santana, damn it, stop!" Quinn blurted out, almost making the professor jolt. She unlocked her safety belt to get closer and embraced her girlfriend as best she could. "When will you stop dwelling on what's wrong. You need to realize that getting drunk every night seems like no fun to me at all when I have you. Last time I checked, being in love is a much better enjoyment than getting wasted and fucking god knows who."

Santana kept staring out the window, untouched by Quinn's plea. She sniffed, obviously fighting tears and guilt back. Quinn snuggled closer and stole a bunch of kisses from the teacher's pouting lips.

"There's a reason for us being where we are, this is not happening for nothing," she purred.

"What reason?"

"You're my right fit, and you have no say about that."

Santana chuckled, beyond whipped. "But you agree that the world stands against us."

"Because you're letting it. I couldn't care less about taking those two buses, or not being able to go where I want with you, because I know you're my fit. It's just a matter of time, that's all it is. Four little months and our patience will be rewarded."

Santana melted. She went to stroke the edge of Quinn's jaw with delicate fingers, her love pouring through her every pore. "You're much braver than I am."

"I'm not. All I'm saying is that when we'll go out, hand in hand, free to kiss or do whatever we want, we will know how dear that is. We'll enjoy it as a gift and we'll be proud. I'm sure that feeling will erase all the shitty frustration we're having now."

Pulling her into another kiss, Santana's mind wandered on those dreams. "And you're much wiser than I am," she said around a joking smile.

The sound of the bus coming close brought them back to reality. Quinn opened the door, one foot down on the concrete. "I gotta go, I have a Literature test in thirty minutes, I can't be late," she giggled.

"Go, I don't want your teacher to give you detention because of me," Santana laughed.

Quinn closed the door and scratched the window playfully, imitating a little lion with her blonde hair flowing around her.

Letting her chuckles die, Santana watched her beloved girlfriend skip to the bus on the other side of the street, some distance away from the hidden place she was parked on. Quinn disappeared in a crowd of students and workers all heading to work and Santana breathed out as she started the car and drove into the morning traffic. Stuck in the jam, she looked at herself in the rearview mirror.

"Pull yourself together, girl," she tapped on her cheeks to give herself some courage. "She's worth it, you know she's right so stop your damn complaining..." she grumbled eyes on the road as the traffic started running easily again.

- o -

Once Santana had made sure to place all her students in the room in a very specific order that would keep them from cheating, she started to distribute the blank pages of today's test. One by one, she put the tests on each desk under the scared looks of the young students. She cracked a smile at Mercedes and Tina, she already knew they would succeed their tests thanks to their mysterious blonde friend. She kept passing by every table, looking in and there to see the tricks they might have hidden. She tapped with her foot on a student's bag, his book immediately falling down from the little hidden place.

"I'm taking this," she said crouching to get it on the floor. The book was already opened on the right page, side notes scribbled everywhere. She cringed at the messy half-assed attempts at scrawl in the margins.

"I have the right to have my book in my bag!" the student complained. Everyone, including him, knew that without that damn book, he was screwed for the test.

"You don't need it to take the test anyway. You can get it back once you're done, don't worry. I highly doubt your book will mourn the terrible loss of your company as much as you will," she blurted cynically. She put the test in front of him, the student already dying in pain. "Accept my deepest sympathies..."

The student sniffed sadly as he discovered the questions. Santana was almost done, she only had one table left. The furthest in the room, right in the middle of the last row, her favorite table. That always was Quinn's favorite table during tests. This way, Santana could stand behind her, sometimes even risk an amazingly fast stroke without any students able to actually look at them. She put the last paper down with a shy smile.

"Starting now, you have 45 minutes. Please cry in silence," she announced over her students' heads.

She enjoyed the silence, sometimes shattered by a frustrated groan, or a throat being cleared out of stress. All students leaned on their elbows, focusing hard on the tough questions she had prepared for them. Right before her eyes, Quinn was doing exactly the same. Safe from any prying eyes, Santana was free to gaze. She read over her girlfriend's shoulder the first words she was writing, shaping each letter with a romantic flourish that Santana loved fiercely. Her eyes grazed her neck, the way her quite short hair was swaying along with the blonde's soft gestures.

Quietly sighing, feeling more than love with each breath, Santana walked back to her desk where a pile of tests from another class was waiting to be corrected. Her mind wasn't near willing to kill the work, yet she just couldn't spend 45 minutes gazing at her hidden girlfriend from the back of the room. She flipped through the papers carelessly, images of Quinn shaping up in her dreaming head. Her students' names came and went before her eyes but her brain didn't acknowledge any of them. That day, nothing she was reading made sense. She shrugged, annoyed by her own lack of efficiency.

She looked up and stared at her class. Dozens of students still working hard on the paper or simply trying to survive the ordeal. In the last row, Quinn was scribbling quickly and ardently, confident in her skills. Santana peeked at her just for a second, never more than a second. Thoughtfully, she grabbed a notepad and started to scrawl on the immaculate paper. As much as the words were flowing out, she tried to suppress a loving smile. She folded the little paper when she was satisfied by her own rhymes.

She checked the time. "20 minutes left," she announced bossily to erase her growing smile. She started another tour between the tables, checking over the students' heads for the progress of their writing. She crossed her arms, hiding in her closed fist her little note. She took her time, wandering through the aisles. She granted each student the same amount of time, watching over their shoulders, commenting here and there on some misspelling or little details. Anything so as not to attract attention to her true mission. She reached the last row after a long ballad as her pupils grew wary of her weighty presence.

"Miss Fabray, you forgot the date," Santana whispered, pointing at the specific area on her paper where Quinn had indeed written the date. Discreetly, the teacher let the little note fall.

Quinn hurried to make it fall on her lap. "Oops... Fixed, thank you," she coughed out, pretending to scribble in case someone heard their brief interaction through the heavy silence of the classroom.

Santana smiled primly and rejoined her desk to resume correcting papers. Quinn glanced around; everybody was dumbfounded over their test. Nobody was paying attention to her. As discreetly as she could, she unfolded the little note on her lap, hidden by the table.

"_I'd build, love, for my sweetest relief, _

_An altar in the dim crypt of my belief, _

_And in the darkest recess of my heart, _

_From mortal lust and mockery far apart, _

_Scoop you a niche, with gold and azure glaze, _

_Where you would stand in wonderment and gaze._

_:)"_

Quinn bit the inside of her cheek so as not to smile giddily. This little note would be put away in that specific box Quinn kept for those other little notes Santana had left here and there; hundreds, maybe thousands of them. In a paper, on her pillow, on the fridge, anywhere. She collected them and carefully put them away, well ordered, flat against the rest of the pile. She looked up; Santana was seemingly busy correcting. Yet Quinn knew this tanned skin like no one else and she caught sight, even from the other side of the room, of a blush coloring the teacher's cheeks. She risked it all when they had the chance to share a look. She mimicked a light kiss, throwing it over her classmates' heads. Santana immediately focused back on her papers to correct before her love for Quinn started pouring from her eyes and trembling lips.

Enamoured, she grabbed a pencil and started scribbling inside her double-paged test so no one would see it once she handed it in. She resumed working on her test, yet her mind traveled far. Words didn't combine the way they always used to. All she could think of was how long would the day be until she could be back home in her girlfriend's arms. Embrace her all night in their bed, and wake up the morning after, her pillow covered in black hair and warmed up by the body snuggling against her. She kept filling the blanks of her test with automatic answers to make sure it would be finished by the final bell.

"5 minutes left! For those who are already finished, you may grab your stuff, put your masterpieces on my desk and leave quietly, thank you," Santana soberly announced, head down over her corrections.

The students paraded in front of her without a glance from the teacher. Some bookworms still fought hard to steal some inspiration from the very last minutes' adrenaline. In the crowd stressing around Professor Lopez's desk, Quinn reverently waited in line to hand her paper.

"I lacked some room on the third question so I kept writing on the margin, I hope that's okay," Quinn indicated, holding her smirk with fierce determination.

Santana faked indifference and grabbed the said-paper to check as she would do for any student. Her jaw tightened, inner reaction to force down a smile, when she realized Quinn's comment was a tiny diversion to get her to look at the little side note written in light penciled letters, easy to erase.

"_In my niche, I'll be repeating over the same words my heart purrs all day. Like a prayer, a blessing, I'll let them reach these dark recesses of yours and enlighten your night. Through mocking crowds and growling thunders of stares, I'll whisper endlessly those words animating me in the secrecy of our paradise. I love you, I'll repeat it over and over again. I love you."_

"That will work. But I require a specific length for a reason, try to keep that in mind next time," Santana sniffed, professional to the last. And the Oscar for Romance at Yale goes to Professor Santana Lopez!

"I will, thank you." Quinn headed out, her perfume melting with the breeze coming through the opened door, Santana smiling at her back dreamily.

- o -

At least, college teachers and students had one thing in common: long nights spent working. Quinn had all her books set on the table close to the kitchen part of the large living space. Santana had covered the coffee table by the sofa in the TV area with layers and layers of papers to correct. A typical week night in the Lopez-Fabray household.

Sighing, Santana put the paper she was correcting down and headed to the kitchen. She didn't fail at leaving a light kiss on Quinn's neck to give her courage, the blonde focusing hard on a heavy encyclopedia to remember hundreds of law articles.

"You're already done?! 'Cause I'm not, I still need a good hour, I think," Quinn worried, slightly turning her head.

Santana laughed. "Oh god no, I'm far from done. I'm craving for a glass of wine," she explained, weary, as she went to grab a glass and an already opened bottle of wine in the fridge. "I'm going through this morning test's papers and believe me, I need booze to forget Johnson's."

Quinn giggled. "F again?"

"I just got to that point when I'm considering an actual expulsion," Santana shrugged, sipping her liquor as she leaned against the kitchen furniture. "And you, how's it goin'?" she winked playfully.

"You really want to talk about foreign policy on adoption legislation?"

"_Ugh_," Santana erased Quinn's comment with a dismissive gesture and moved back to the sofa. "Only if you can find a law that could allow me to get Johnson adopted in another country so I don't have to read his squiggling ever again."

"I can't, I'm afraid," Quinn laughed.

"At least Mercedes finally did quite well. Way better than last time... You explained to her well, love," Santana sang adjusting her comfy position against the pillows.

"What grade did you give her?"

"A good B. Maybe B+, I have to read it again to be sure."

"Cool! She's gonna be thrilled to have escaped her sacrosanct C," Quinn giggled and went back to her studying.

As usual, Santana grumbled once in awhile when a paper she was reading wasn't satisfying enough. She let little snorts or groans escape that shattered the serious silence in the house. Deep inside, Quinn smiled each time she heard one. It was the right amount of life she needed to reassure her through those heavy nights spent working that she wasn't alone. A satisfying amount of Santana coloring her mind when she was endlessly reading sober law and history texts.

Santana sniffed, a typical reaction when she was reading something she didn't like. She sighed, "Sweets..."

The latter finished reading her law article before turning her head, lost in her law vocabulary. "Hm?"

"Nothing," Santana frowned as she kept reading.

Her pen was grazing the sheet more and more often as Quinn was absorbed by her book. She sipped at her glass, nervous. The crystal tapped a bit too loudly against the table when Santana put her glass down. Intrigued, Quinn looked up. She found quite a thoughtful expression on Santana's face which was hard to read.

"You alright?"

Santana bit the inside of her cheek, somewhat embarrassed. "Your paper, it's hardly a B- and I'm being generous," she admitted with the seriousness of the loss of Quinn's excellence.

Quinn put her pen down and closed her book within a second, her jaw falling to the ground. "What?!"

Concerned, Santana stood up carrying the paper and her glass of wine. She showed it to Quinn, opening the double pages with dozens of red inked circles around Quinn's romantic writing, crosses and underlines. Her own lovely side-note had been erased, leaving a creased mark behind. "It's weak, sweetheart. And that question, you just didn't get it at all..."

Quinn stared at the sheets, dumbfounded. Never had she seen so many corrections on one of her papers. Literature represented her heart, her feelings, her passion, law. Never had a B dared to graze her grades, _ever_. And it wasn't even out of perfectionist studying, Literature was flowing in her veins. She couldn't explain to herself how her mind could have written something worthy of ... a _B_. Her eyes kept fluttering as she read what she had written hours before, the blue ink still shiny. Even she groaned as she read, spotting mistakes that were more Mercedes-like than Little Miss Perfect Fabray.

"What the fuck..." she breathed out between disappointed puffs.

"Honestly, this is so average. This is not the Quinn I fell in love with... This is not you..." Santana worried, taking a seat around the table to discuss the issue.

She patiently waited for Quinn to finish reading her own paper. She stared at the woman that had fascinated her back in the day with incredibly smart and wise analysis, trying to find that same woman in the features of the student in front of her. Memories of elaborated speeches which had throbbed right up to Santana's core flipped in her mind. She tried to find where the spell had broken, and ended up empty-handed.

"What happened, sweetheart?" Santana asked in her softest voice.

Quinn carelessly let the paper fall on the table, almost disgusted by it. "I guess I got distracted..."

"By what?" she stroked her back, reassuring.

Quinn stared right into her black pupils. "By you. You got me distracted by your little note... and our chat earlier... I had a lot on my mind this morning."

Santana pulled away a little, and nervously pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. "You... Are you saying that this is my fault? This is not the first time I've left you a note..."

"No, I'm saying that this morning was a little heavy and that your note didn't really help," Quinn sighed out uselessly, slumping back against her chair.

To be honest, Santana understood. The need to write a little note had appeared out of her most painful frustrations. Working had been hard for her as well, her heart carrying a heavy weight it couldn't lift, unable to properly focus.

"I'm sorry, Quinn. I won't write any more notes during tests," Santana apologized, eyes trained down.

Quinn immediately grabbed her arm. "Hey, it's fine! Today was just a bad day... But yeah, B-, that sucks..."

"I can't raise your grade, Quinn. If you need to show your test to whatever jury or teacher next year, they'll immediately see that it's over graded," Santana explained, eyes bearing a hurt that wasn't just her own. Quinn's eyes mirrored it right back.

"Nobody will believe I got a B-, you know that. They're going to ask questions. And by _them_, I mean my friends and classmates..."

"I actually don't believe it either..." Santana scratched the back of her neck, physically feeling the consequences of such a dilemma.

"Let me retake the test," Quinn suggested after a moment of thought.

"Sweetie... Now you know the questions, it's not fair. Plus, I never allow students to retake any tests. How do I justify it to the direction? Retaking a test for an F okay, but a B..."

"They don't have to know. I can do it now, right now."

Santana's eyes went wide. "_Now?_"

"Yeah! I retake it and you throw the old paper away. Nobody will know. And if this time I get a B, it will be a fair B!"

"But Quinn..." Santana fidgeted on her seat, uneasy. "We agreed on never mixing things up. No favour on grades, no help on homework."

"For the record, you'd give detention to a student texting their girlfriend during your class yet you don't give me detention when I leave you note or you leave me notes. That's already a favour," Quinn negotiated, pulling her chair forward and hence reducing the room between them.

Santana giggled nervously. "That's completely different. We're not hitting on each other during class, it's just..."

"Yet, may I suggest that their girlfriends don't accompany them during class either. That's a procedural defect if I trust the article..." she said malicious, opening her law book for emphasis.

"Okay I get it, that's wicked anyway," Santana admitted around a smile.

Quinn stood up from her chair and slid herself in the little room between the table and Santana. She sat comfortably on her lap, and caressed her hairline. "Let me retake the test."

Guided by the spell of the blonde's sultry voice, Santana couldn't help herself but embrace her, letting her hands travel down her back and lower.

"Let me retake the test," Quinn pushed, leaning closer. She prepared herself to coo in her ear, "let me retake it, my love."

"We do everything in reversed order... You were supposed to sexually bribe me _before_ winning my heart," she chuckled, putting her head against the warm skin of her girlfriend's collarbone. "Now I don't know if it's because you're attracted to me or because you need my red pen."

Quinn pulled her into a deep kiss, her tongue dancing on the teacher's lips sensually. "Let me..." she kissed her jaw. "Retake..." Under her ear. "_It_." Against her lips again.

Warming up, Santana let her hand wander lower and lower. She lifted her girlfriend's skirt to stroke against the skin there but Quinn stopped her right away.

"Accept my offer and you'll be free to do whatever you want with me..."

"Gosh, you really want your A..." Santana breathed out huskily.

Quinn nodded, a playful smile lighting her face. "A+ perhaps... who knows..."

"Don't push it," Santana laughed.

"It wouldn't be the first time I get an A+ in your class, Professor Lopez," she purred in the crook of her neck. Santana shivered. Before she could get a chance to answer back, her lips were somewhat busy with other responsibilities. She tried to take her glasses off for more... comfort. "Keep them on. You wearing glasses turns me on..."

Santana swallowed thickly. "You have thirty minutes sharp," she finally acquiesced. "And not a single extra second, I won't be able to wait more than that..."

Quinn embraced her tight and kissed her. "I love you!"

Sighing, perhaps now more whipped than ever, the teacher softly pushed her student back on her chair to stand up. "You better because it's really killing me to do this," she grumbled on her way to her computer.

Cheeks reddened by lust, she could barely focus enough to find the right file on her desktop. She printed it immediately and folded the double-page. The test was now ready. Quinn hurried to push her books and sheets away to make room. Sniffling, Santana carelessly put it on the sacred ground of their kitchen table. She grabbed her glass of wine with an almost arrogant expression, forced to thirty minutes of intense frustration.

She leaned back on the sofa. She served herself another drink which she emptied in large and quick gulps. Distracted by the greedy sound, Quinn glanced up.

"Don't drown yourself in wine," she joked.

"Thirty minutes," Santana blurted, threatening, as she crossed her legs on the coffee table.

Santana fought to focus on the papers she couldn't care less about at the moment. The minutes went by excruciating slowly. Each time she looked at the clock on the wall, the hands seemed to turn on the wrong side. Quinn however, was writing with fierce determination what herself and Santana had expected. Right before the bell, she loudly stood up carrying her masterpiece with her.

"Thirty minutes on the dot!" she called proudly.

Smirking, Santana put everything she was reading down, grabbed her red pen and shook it in the air playfully. "Let's see if that can fight its way back into my heart..."

Quinn relaxed on the sofa, snuggling down against Santana's shoulder.

"Cuddle as long as you want, I'll remain impartial," Santana let out, eyes down correcting the paper.

Her mischief rousing from its cavern, Quinn straightened on the sofa and started massaging her girlfriend's shoulders. "I beg your pardon? All I'm doing is making my love's work bearable..."

"Bearable_, bullshit_..." Santana muttered, smirking minutely. Her pen was hesitating, sometimes on the verge of encircling a word or underlining a paragraph. Obviously, Santana wanted to correct. Yet she had no reason to do so, the paper was sheer perfection.

"Is my paper alright?" Quinn teased. She made Santana lean a bit more forward so she could massage her from behind with intense rubs. She took a comfy position in between the sofa and Santana, and started long and delightful strokes along her spine.

Santana said nothing. She simply tried to hide her grin. The words she was reading were flowing elegantly, the analysis was discerning, clear yet elaborated. It was the perfect balance she had expected. For the first time in their history as teacher and student, Santana felt almost shameful about giving a good grade, the _best_ grade. Even if they were both guilty for the morning fail, her new success seemed almost unfair to other students. Even though it was her real skills showing on the paper, even though they had dozens of reasons to justify Quinn taking the test again, it was still sidetracking all their resolutions not to ever mix things up.

Red ink scratched the paper for the first time, underlining a little typo which was of no harm. Usually, Santana didn't correct those. She was running five classes, hence hundreds of papers to correct per month... It would take her way too much time correcting tiny typos. She'd rather focus on the content than the spell-check.

Quinn chuckled knowingly. "Professor Lopez is being righteous..." she sang, sliding her hand under Santana's shirt.

Wincing, the teacher pulled away just an inch to keep focusing even when Quinn wasn't helping at all. She attacked the last page, stoic and determined. As her pen followed the lines, guiding her eyes as she read, she was taking Quinn's ministrations with seriousness. She wanted to seem untouched, unwarmed, when her heart was actually boiling. The blonde's hands travelled lovingly nevertheless. The student made sure that the rest of the evening would be spent erasing the bad feelings that had dwelled on them all day with loving caresses.

She tickled Santana around the waist, "I'm sure that paper deserves an easy A+."

Santana jolted at the luscious touch. "Quinn, let me finish!" she said between nervous chuckles.

The blonde teased even more, sliding her hands lower under the clothes and biting her lip. "Come on, trust me, that's an A+."

The teacher's legs folded, keeping her girlfriend from exploring lower again. Santana gave up, she turned the paper and scribbled a grade on the top right. She carelessly threw her pen away and turned around to kiss Quinn with all the pent up desire she had.

"What?! A, that's a joke!" Quinn retracted and looked affronted. "That's worth an A+, and you know it really does!"

"Leave it..." Santana fought to unbutton her girlfriend's shirt. "You got your A, be satisfied..."

"Are you undergrading out of guilt? Be honest with me!"

"I don't know, whatever..." she shook her, impatient to get her cuddles on. She managed to free Quinn's shoulder from the clothes and started to eagerly kiss despite the latter sudden freezing.

Quinn straddled her and forced her to listen. "Put the damn +, Santana." To make sure the teacher understood well, she tightened her legs around her waist, let her unbuttoned shirt open so she could easily see under.

"Quinn..." Santana begged, almost trembling. For the first time in her entire life, she now knew what being sexually bribed felt like. And yes, it was insanely exciting. She unbuttoned her sweetheart's belt, made it fly to the ground. Then, she tried to take her skirt off but Quinn wasn't helping at all.

"Put the + and I'll undress," Quinn said, bending towards the coffee table to grab the paper and the red pen. "The +, sweetie," she teased. She put the paper flat against Santana's chest and tapped it playfully.

Santana either felt like laughing or crying, she wasn't sure which. "Babe..."

"+ means angry kind of sex, no + means none, nada, _nyet_."

"Quinn!"

"The +, Lopez."

Grumbling, Santana pulled the pen out of the complaining student's hand and ripped the pen's cap with her teeth. She edged up the sofa to sit better and held the paper flat against the valley of Quinn's breast. Finally, she crowned the A with a very expected cross. Within a second, paper and pen flew away.

Quinn pushed Santana back down against the sofa. She hurried to undress, the brunette following the same dance. Soon, glasses, bras, pants and skirt were distant memories. Santana's legs ended up on Quinn's hips, forcing her to lean flat against the cushions.

"Who's the teacher now," Quinn muttered, chuckling.

Santana burst into laughter. "Shut your mouth and make love to me already..." she said, her voice trembling with lust.

* * *

Are you liking it so far?! Let me know! :D Happy post Halloween parties hangovers guys :)


	3. When the cat's away

"Nice scratches Santana," one of her coworkers laughed while serving himself a cup of coffee in the teachers' room.

Santana was brought back from her reveries. "What are you talking about?"

"You have three scratches on the back of your neck. Rough night?"

Now she understood why her neck had felt so itchy all morning. She rubbed nervously the area. "Oh no, not at all. I... hm, I just got a cat."

"That scratches you on the neck," he mocked.

"Yeah, he... hm, he likes to stand on my shoulder when I change his litter," Santana lamely tried to explain.

"Really?" he raised a playful eyebrow.

"Yeah, you know how cats are... Wild creatures." Oh... she indeed had a wild creature at home. This wasn't a white lie. She grabbed her mug of coffee, embarrassed. "I'm just gonna go, okay. Yeah, I'll just... see ya," she escaped the fastest she could.

She skipped through the hallways looking down at her shoes. Soon she reached her room and locked herself in. She would be way better there during her lunch break than around her coworkers' stares over the very gossiped scratches. Working while eating her salad, she lost track of time. Another teacher knocked on the door.

"Hey Lopez, I heard that you're not lying fallow anymore?" the teacher kidded.

"I own a cat, the cat clawed me!" she yelled, irritated.

"The meowing kind of cat or moaning kind of cat?" she asked winking.

Santana grabbed the first item on her desk and threw it in the door direction. "Get out!"

"Oh meow Santana, meow!" she joked catching the flying book.

"Caitlin, may I know why you're meowing in the hallways," the dean passing by scolded softly.

The teacher immediately looked down and closed the door, under Santana's giggles. She leaned on her chair, taking a minute while rubbing her slightly itchy neck. Her mind wandered on the past night fresh memories. She checked the time, Quinn was on lunch break as well and probably chilled on the campus between two classes. It was against the rules they had fixed, yet Santana couldn't help herself. She grabbed her phone and called.

Not far, actually almost under Santana's class windows, Quinn was chilling on the lawn. The first days of spring offered a nice sun to enjoy and she took her chance to eat while sunbathing a little. "Aunt calling" flashed Quinn's phone, lost in the grass. Suddenly, the blonde cleared her throat. She peeked around, neither Tina wasn't in the neighborhood, the later having left a couple of minutes before to go the restroom.

"Hey, I'm still on campus," Quinn whispered.

"_Yeah I know... You're... alone right now?" _Her love for Quinn was flowing like rivers on her every word.

Quinn giggled at her girlfriend enamoured tone. "Yeah, Tina went to the restroom. I'm in the garden. Is there something's wrong?"

Santana's heavy silence spoke volume. Her voice had sounded sweet and soft, nothing seemed wrong though. _"Nope..."_

Quinn laughed. "Aww, you're such a sap."

Santana's smile shone through the line. _"Anyway, I still have one class and then I'm off. I'm gonna buy some groceries this afternoon, you need something?"_

"Hm... Shampoo, my bottle is almost down."

"_Yeah I saw that this morning. Same brand?"_

"Yup. Oh and take something to snack or whatever, I won't study tonight. I'll probably eat my weight in crackers in front of a movie so if you can find something at the store to fulfill this mission, that'd be awesome," she chuckled relaxing in the grass, confident out of the fact she was alone.

Tina slowly came back in her friend's back and heard the little chat on the phone. Figuring she was speaking with her aunt - who she was supposed to live with, she didn't pay attention. A talk about groceries had nothing exciting, it was just life going along. She went to take her seat back on the ground.

"_I dig that, so movie night tonight? Oh, or I can cook brownies this afternoon! I don't have any corrections to do either and-"_

Quinn caught sight of Tina and panicked. "Do whatever you want! I gotta go, K bye!" she hung up before Santana got a chance to say goodbye or Tina to hear echoes of that raspy voice both knew very well.

"Did you see that they hung up a new schedule for History and foreign law?" Tina resumed the friendly chat they had been having over the past hour.

Quinn softened up. Apparently, her behavior hadn't seemed suspicious at all or Tina would have investigated. They discussed the new schedule until Quinn's phone rang again. She peeked at the name, "Aunt Charlotte".

"Oh wait a sec, that's my aunt," Quinn paused. "Hey auntie! How you doin'?" she answered all joyful as if they haven't talked in days.

Tina frowned. As far as she could recall, Quinn only had one aunt, the one she was living with. She listened to the conversation much carefully this time. The conversation was only about the fact that they needed to agree on a gift for Quinn's mother's birthday. Nothing crunchy yet it sounded weird in Tina's opinion.

"Listen Auntie, if you saw that blazer you think she'd like, just buy it and I'll give you the money," Quinn said rolling her eyes, the discussion seemed to last forever and in the meantime, she wasn't good company to her friend.

"_Okay, okay, I'll buy it then. But you should come here to wrap it because I'm terrible at gift wrapping. When do you think you can pay me a visit, sweetie?"_

Quinn turned the head away a little, in case Tina could hear. Her aunt was quite old and she was yelling on the phone instead of speaking like normal people would do. She eyed her friend, somewhat scared to find a suspicious look in her eyes.

But the damage was already done. Tina was getting bunches of words here and there, she was understanding the chat quite well.

"We'll see that later, Auntie Charlotte. That can wait."

"_When do you think you can come over?" _her aunt insisted_. _

Quinn, awkward, turned even more around. "I don't know, I have to check with my agenda. I'll tell you tonight, okay?"

"_Call me back this time! You always says you will but you never do!"_

"Don't worry Auntie, I'll tell you tonight. I really have to go now, bye..." Again, she hung up in a hurry, throwing the phone in the grass. "Sorry girl, you know how my aunt is..." she giggled nervously.

"Don't worry, it's fine..." Tina reassured around a smile.

She discreetly peeked at the phone still open and shining. She mimicked to rub a painful neck, diversion to tilt her head a little and actually be able to read on the phone. Quinn's last calls were written black dots on white screen, a clear "Aunt Charlotte, 06:10" followed by an "Aunt, 02:35". Quinn forcefully grasped her phone and locked it, the screen suddenly all black. The two friends shared an awkward smile.

- o -

Quinn hiccuped, too much alcohol in her veins. On the carpet of Mercedes and Tina's room in the dorms, the promised Friday night had fulfilled its mission: Quinn was wasted. They had drank what felt like hectoliters of beers, throwing the empty bottles in a garbage can which was already full. Their fits of laughter were endless. They were so intense that they actually got exhausted. Tina let herself fell on the carpet, contemplating the ceiling.

"Can I just say that this night is just awesome," she sang.

"Hell yeah!" Mercedes cheered, fist in the air. "When was the last time we did that, like... five or six months ago, damn!"

"Mercedes, are your lips real?" Quinn stared, her level of drunkenness exploding any kind of record.

"Oh my god girl, you're wasted," she laughed. "Dead serious Quinn, you should come back in the dorms. We'll teach your how to hold your liquor better than that!"

Quinn kept opening and closing her eyes again, her sight was all blurry. "Yeah I know but I can't do that..."

"Blasted aunt!" Tina laughed out, shaking on the carpet.

"'Cause if I don't live with her anymore, I'm gonna be so sad, because I'd miss her," Quinn ranted, alcohol speaking instead of her. "I'd be so, so, _so_ sad that I would cry every night..."

"Okay, your love for your aunt is just weird like... incestuous or some shit," Mercedes joked.

Quinn giggled, hiding behind her palm. "Shhhh... it's a secret..."

"What secret are you talking about?" Tina and Mercedes shared a look.

"What. Whaaaaaat. What a weird word 'what' is. Whaaaaaat," Quinn rambled. "Okay I need to pee but I forgot how you do that..."

"Just go and you'll remember in front of the toilets," Tina helped.

"Okay, born to be wild, I'm going to the toilets," Quinn breathed out taking support on the ground to stand up. Her path out of the room was actually painful to watch.

"I think she's not living with her aunt," Tina rushed to say as soon as the blonde had closed the door behind her.

"Really?! Why?"

"I heard a phone call the other day, I think she's hiding who she lives with."

"A phone call?" Mercedes had hard time thinking clear.

"Yeah, stuff to buy at the grocery store, normal talk you know, but her aunt, the real one, called right after and I'm sure to the bone the first phone call wasn't from her!"

Mercedes stared for long seconds. The three of them were best friends, for years. They got into Yale together, swore that they got out of Yale together. Quinn could never lie. Mercedes burst down laughing. "You almost got me, girl!"

"But I'm serious! I really heard that phone call! And she hung up super fast when she saw me. She's hiding something!"

"So... do we grill her now? Because Blondie is pretty drunk right now..."

"I don't know... I mean, if she didn't say a thing, there's probably a reason for that, don't you think?"

"But why would she hide something from us? Do you think like, she has another roomie? Like she didn't want to stay with us so she made up that Aunt thing?"

"That doesn't sound like Quinn... Maybe she has a girlfriend."

Mercedes laughed. "Serious? Like, if Quinn was in love, we'd know it! Like we'd see it!"

"What if we didn't?" Tina proposed. "What if we had missed it?"

Before Mercedes could take her chance to answer, Quinn was already turning the doorknob.

"Girls, that was a war over there!" the blonde laughed.

"Hey Quinn, I was wondering, how old is your aunt, you know, the one you live with?" Mercedes faked a normal tone. Tina poked her right away, but Quinn was way too drunk to acknowledge any suspicious gesture anyway.

Their friend giggled immediately, hiding in her palms. "My aunt is something like 65, I think."

"And is your room pretty?"

"Mercedes, stop..." Tina whispered.

Quinn somewhat managed to sit back on the floor without breaking anything or hurting herself. "Yes, very."

"And how many bedrooms does your Aunt's house have?"

Quinn raised her thumb, counting on her fingers through the fog of her mind, "mine, that makes one." She raised a second finger and tapped on it with her other hand, "and the guest room, that makes two. Two bedrooms!"

"And your aunt doesn't have her own room?"

Quinn giggled again, facepalming, from the one who didn't keep the secret very well. "_Of couuuurse_ she has a bedroom since I live with her! But I don't sleep in the same room than my aunt, no, nope... Noooo, so she needs her own room! That makes..." she counted again, "Three bedrooms!"

"Okay..." Mercedes eyed Tina. They were started anyway, so why not keep going?. "So when you come home tonight after our little night, what are you gonna do?"

"Oh, I'll throw up and then I'll probably wash my teeth, and then I'll go to bed with my girlf-" Quinn stopped and burst down laughing. "My girl clothes! I'll go to bed with my girl clothes!" Shaken by her giggled, she held her stomach. "Oh god, I don't feel good..."

"Do you want me to drive you home?" Tina offered.

"No! No, no... Nobody should know where I live... Oops, bad Quinn, you're a bad, _bad_ girl telling secrets!" she ranted for herself before grabbing another bottle of beer from the pack in the middle of the room.

"Girl, I think you had enough," Mercedes rushed to get the bottle.

"Hey! I want to drink more!"

"What about we go take a walk around the campus, Q.? Huh, some fresh air!"

"What a lovely idea!" Quinn let out, distracted by that shiny idea.

Tina helped Quinn get up under Mercedes's lost stare.

"What are you doing, she can barely walk!" she whispered.

"I'm taking her to your car, so we can drive her home."

"We don't know where she lives! How are you gonna do?"

"I don't know, we'll figure something!"

Saying that they dragged Quinn to the car was an understatement. Quinn's shoes left on the campus' grass marks of the corpse being dragged away from prying eyes. Thankfully, they weren't the only one on that Friday to drag a wasted friend. The campus bus station was a sort of drunk tank, and the grass was decorated with dozens and dozens of empty red plastic glasses. Somewhat, they managed to pull her on the back seat. Now they were comfy in the car, their plan could start.

"Mercedes, you is comfy, you is sexy, you is sleepy..." Quinn grumbled caressing the leather of Mercedes's back seats, on the verge of falling asleep.

"So, how do we do now?" Mercedes asked. "With that chick sleeping, we're kinda stuck on the parking lot."

"Her phone, hold on..." Tina grabbed Quinn's bag and looked for the precious treasure. "She told me that she borrowed her aunt's car the other day, maybe she used the GPS!"

"Aaannd that's why you always need an Asian in your team," Mercedes laughed.

"Bingo, the last three addresses are the same. Let me configure the new ride..." Tina murmured all eyes on Quinn's phone.

"Okay, actually, you're a bit scary."

"I just watch a lot of investigation shows," Tina defended herself around a smile. "Okay, gotcha, that's where we're heading! God bless Iphones, damn'..."

The GPS on her lap, Mercedes drove all way through the dark night until they rode in the right street. Quinn, deep asleep, was snoring on the leather. Would she remember that ride, that wasn't sure at all.

"What do I do, the GPS says it's right there," Mercedes said pointing at quite a fancy house.

"Just stop here, she'll walk. Just yeah, stop." Tina hurried to grab the phone and put it back in the bag, and all of it away on the back seat as if they had never touched a thing. She climbed in her own seat and started to shake Quinn.

"Quinn, wake up, you're home..."

The drunk friend grumbled and turned around, sleeping on her other side.

"Quinn! Come on, you're landed! It's time to go home! You need to leave the car!"

Mumbling alien words, the blonde opened the door, dragged her bag and exited the car with unsteady steps. She slammed the door like a gunshot through the peaceful night, which deafened every particle of life around including herself. She stopped at Tina's window, lazily knocked on it. Tina opened.

"Thanks for the ride... How much..." Quinn muttered while looking for her wallet. But she was too drunk to properly look for money in it. "Just take it," she threw it inside and just headed home, a ghost scraping against the cold concrete of the street.

The friends spied on her routine. She headed all the way through the street, looked for her keys but again, she was too drunk to achieve any kind of task. She lazily knocked. Mercedes, like a cat in a car, drove slowly to hear better.

"Babe, it's me... I just... the keys, they're gone..." Quinn explained with messy words.

Mercedes came even closer. The door opened but they couldn't see anything but the dim light of the inside.

"Heeey... Roses are red, violets are bl-" Quinn hiccuped. "It's a secret but I love youuuuu," Quinn joked against the doorframe, her drunkenness exploding everywhere.

All they could hear from the car was a feminine laugh followed by an "Oh my god...". Quinn dragged herself in and the story was over.

Inside, Santana was crying laughing. "Was the night great, sweetie?"

"Noooo," Quinn shook her head and almost made herself vomit. "You weren't there so it was okayy... It can only be great if you- _ugh_... if you are there."

"Aww... How did you get here? You took the bus like that?" Santana worried.

"A cab..."

"Okay, cool. What about you go to bed now?" she pushed her in the right direction.

"Kiss me..." Quinn tried.

Santana turned her head away to avoid the beer smell, "Yes love, I'll kiss you tomorrow..."

"No, now..." Quinn complained, entering the bedroom. She defended herself from the hold, wanting her kiss as if her life depended on it.

"You know what I really want right now?" Santana tried. Quinn shook her head, almost making herself fall. "I really want to snuggle in bed with you but for that you need to let me take your shoes off."

Quinn giggled. "I love snuggling with you..." she finally complied, sitting in the bed.

As soon as her butt touched the mattress, her head started to sway, dizzy. She was fighting hard not to sleep again. Trying to keep her chuckles quiet, Santana softly pushed her down once the shoes were removed. Quinn fell asleep on the middle of the bed within a second.

- o -

"Santana..." Quinn croaked from the bed. "I think I'm dying..."

Hearing her girlfriend waking up from the hallway, Santana giggling, went to grab a glass of water and an aspirin on her way back to the bedroom.

"Good afternoon my love..." she cooed.

Quinn hid herself behind her hands. "Can you speak... without yelling please?"

"Okay..." Santana whispered in a barely audible breath while taking a seat on the bed. "Rough night?"

Quinn sat better to drink. She stared. "What did I do last night? Did I kill someone or? Did someone drug me? Because I really feel like shit..."

Santana chuckled at the mess Quinn was. "You were with Mercedes and Tina and you took a cab to come back home, that's what you told me. Besides the fact that you snored all night, I think everything is alright. No corpses found on the news this morning," she joked lightly.

"Gotcha... Because like, I can't remember a thing... I have this woodpecker in my head," Quinn scratched her forehead. "Make it go away..."

"Go back to sleep, sweetie..." she stroked lightly her arm to reassure her.

Quinn smelled herself. "After a shower, I need a shower and then I'm gonna die in bed if you don't mind..."

Santana smiled. "I was about to leave for my Mom's anyway. She needs help for my sister's quinceanera. Sleep as much as you want, I won't be back before a bunch of hours. You think you're gonna survive without me?"

"Bleargh..."

"Or you can come with me?"

"Ergh, no, your mom hates me. I'd rather stay in bed to cure my headache."

"She doesn't hate you! She hates not being able to talk about it with her friends. You know, Latin people chat a lot, she hates secrets..." Santana tried softly.

"Can we just... not talk about it right now?" she scratched her painful skull.

"Sure..." she kissed her head. "Call me if you need anything, okay?"

After a relieving shower to get rid of the beer smell, Quinn spent the whole afternoon on the sofa, watching lame TV shows her eyes weren't really acknowledging. She peeked at the time indicated on the TV more and more often as the sun went down on the house. Lately, Santana and Quinn didn't stay apart besides from school, sheer consequence of months spent craving for each other and patiently waiting for the Friday nights, their precious weekly rendezvous in paradise. Quinn had forgot how it felt not to be with her always, especially since their parents knew. Their weekends were spent at home, or at each other parents' places. She hadn't spent an afternoon alone in the house since... weeks, months maybe. Slowly, missing Santana was the only thing throbbing through her headache.

The doorbell rang, resonating in her head like a full orchestra of drums. The last thing she wanted was seeing people right now. Santana had her keys so there was no need to move her ass from the sofa. They'd leave.

"Quinn, it's us!" Tina yelled through the door.

"Open!" Mercedes insisted. "We know you're here, we saw you through the window!"

Panic and heart attack. Quinn threw the cover she was curling under, almost spilled her tea everywhere while she flew to the front door.

"What are you doing here?" Quinn spat, pushing her friends inside before anybody could see them. "How do you know I'm here?"

"You don't remember last night, do you?" Mercedes worried.

Quinn stared, fighting like an army of bloody soldiers through her foggy brain to recall at least a detail from the previous night. But no, that was all blank.

"We drove you here," Tina explained and handed Quinn's wallet. "You left that in the car last night."

The blonde caught it with absolutely no care, irritated at their friends to come back on the crime scene. "That could have wait for Monday. I'm sorry but you need to leave, now."

"Quinn, tell us. Who are you living with?" Mercedes tried with her most soft voice.

"My aunt, you know that," she blurted, annoyed, as she already led them back to the door.

"We know you live with your girlfriend, you told us last night," Tina divulged.

"I... told you," Quinn's eyes went wide. "I did that... What else did I say?"

"Nothing more, we just know that you don't live with your aunt but your girlfriend. Why are you hiding it from us? We're your friends, you can tell us anything," Tina reassured.

"Yeah, totally! You're our friend and whoever she is, it's your choice and we'll always respect that..." Mercedes insisted. "As long as it's not a girl voting for Romney. Because my heart couldn't take that," she joked to ease the atmosphere.

Quinn bit the inside of her cheek, thoughtful. "She's... Can we talk about this Monday? I promise I'm gonna tell you but you need to leave now... You shouldn't be here."

"Why-"

Santana pushed the door open by the back, loaded with victuals her mom had prepared for them, half giggling at her mom's generosity. "Sweets, we won't starve this week with what Mom made for u-... _Oh shit_," she breathed out when she caught sight of an embarrassed Quinn and two shocked friends in the middle of their living room. "You told them?"

"You just did..." Quinn answered, looking at her shoes, defeated.

Santana hurriedly pushed away everything she was carrying on the first table, under the dumbfounded stare of Tina and Mercedes.

"You... and Miss Lopez?" Tina clarified. "Since when?!" she took Quinn by the elbow to drag her away from Santana.

"We're together for over than a year and a half now," Quinn explained with a shy smile.

Finally realizing the news, Mercedes shook her hands defensively. "Oh hell to the no, Quinn!"

* * *

All my thoughts to all my lovely readers who live in the path of the hurricane, stay safe! 3


	4. Storytellers

_**Previously...**_

_Finally realizing the news, Mercedes shook her hands defensively. "Oh hell to the no, Quinn!"_

- o -

"No, Quinn, no!" Mercedes yelled. "Are you fucking out of your mind or what?!"

"Mercedes, please stay calm," Santana felt back into her professor persona right away.

"How could I stay calm! Do you realize how fucked up this is?! Tell me you do, Quinn!"

"Can we just talk about it? Calmly?" Quinn pleaded hands in front, shaking them like a white flag.

"But there's nothing to talk about, this has to stop before anyone knows!"

"We won't break up, Mercedes," Quinn clarified, softly nevertheless.

Her friend sighed, exasperated. "First Beth in High School and now this! When are you going to stop ruining your life! Yale was supposed to be your fresh start and now, what are you doing? Fuck everything up all over again! I welcomed you under my roof once, I'm not gonna do this again if that shit doesn't work out. I'm telling you Quinn, it's without me this time," she threatened.

Mercedes, breathing heavily out of rage, was the only one left to hear through the silence. Quinn, Tina and Santana were shocked by the hardness of her words. Quinn felt tears running up, her cheeks growing puffy.

Tina came in between, "you don't mean what you're saying. She's our friend, give her a chance to explain."

"I don't want to talk about it," Mercedes spat. "And you know why? Because we were supposed to be friends, she was supposed to talk to us about it, that's what friends do. But no, we have to fucking spy on her to find out what's going on. Have you heard her? We're not talking about a two months old lie, I could have understood that! We're talking about a fucking year and a half lying to our faces and that, I can't take it."

"Can they just explain? That's a tough situation, I think it's fair to let them explain first..." Tina insisted kindly.

"I agree with Tina, don't judge us without knowing our story. Just listen to what we have to say and then you decide," Santana offered, with her best voice.

"I don't want to talk to you! I have no respect for a professor who hits on their students," Mercedes growled.

"Enough!" Quinn shouted. "Beth wasn't a choice, and falling in love with Santana wasn't a choice either. I don't regret anything, I don't regret any of them! Both happened in their own way and I can't do anything about that," Quinn weeped. "You don't know Santana, and you don't know all the good she does to me, so if you're not even going to listen to me, then just leave."

Quinn's tears were too much for Santana to take, she rushed to stroke her back and reassure her. The gesture exasperated Mercedes even more.

"You're right, I'd better just leave," Mercedes grunted, already heading out.

"Mercedes, don't!" Tina pleaded, but the girl was already gone.

Santana embraced Quinn tight. "She just needs time..." she whispered to calm her down.

Quinn's eyebrows dropped in sadness. "I didn't think she would have taken it so personally..."

Tina rushed in, to her friend's rescue. "She just cares about you Quinn, she wants to protect you."

"I know... But I never thought she'd have brought Beth in the middle of this."

"Hm, I'm sorry Quinn but... Who's Beth?" Santana asked embarrassed.

The blonde dove in her girlfriend's eyes. That day was an emotional rollercoaster... "I... I placed a baby girl for adoption when I was 16... and her name was Beth."

With Beth in the picture, talking about Santana and Quinn's relationship sounded dull in comparison. Tina was much calmer than Mercedes, she wanted to understand. After long speeches explaining Beth, her time spent at Mercedes's, her madness during High School and how she had recovered, talking about the sincerity of Santana's intentions got the three of them exhausted. Santana offered Tina to stay for the night; maybe a good sleep would get everybody's mind straight. It was with a heavy heart that Quinn set the bed for Tina, and dragged herself under the covers of her own bed.

Quinn and Santana's minds were rushing too fast for a sleep to kick in. For once, they weren't cuddling, they weren't even touching. Both stared at the ceiling. They were just staring blank at the shadows drawn by the trees outside.

"Are you mad at me?" Quinn whispered.

"About what?"

"Not telling you about Beth."

"No," Santana softly shrugged. "I need to swallow it, that's for sure, but... it makes a lot of sense actually," she admitted lying on her side to talk better.

"What do you mean?"

"Now I understand where this melancholia following you everywhere comes from. Why you're so mature. That put the pieces together. That makes sense."

Quinn cracked a smile. "Does it scare you?"

Santana bit her lip. "I don't know, I really don't. For me, that means that someday, I'll probably have to deal with you trying to contact her or her trying to contact you and I really don't know how I'm gonna feel about it when it happens."

Quinn sighed. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you myself... I just kept pushing it away, telling myself I had to tell you but..."

"Ugh, it's fine. It's not like you can spill that between main course and dessert, like 'hey guess what, I have a daughter adopted somewhere'!", she tried to light up the mood, but none of them laughed. "Don't worry, the way I found it out is not my main problem, really."

"What's your main problem then?"

"That the day we want a family, I won't know how to deal with your personal story. I guess I'll be afraid to say or do something wrong..."

Quinn leaned on her side and embraced her girlfriend in no time. "Hey, hey... It's part from past for me. Maybe one day, Beth will pop on my road again for whatever reason, but I'm not her family anymore, neither she's mine. It was hard to admit, but I was too young to be a good mother for her. Her foster mom is a great one, she's safe. This is all I need to know about Beth to move on."

"Yeah I know, you already told me that," Santana snuggled a little.

"I'm looking forward to the future, not re-reading the books I wrote yesterday, sweetie. I want to write new chapters, new stories, and I want to write them with you..."

Santana shrugged. She gazed deep in those green pupils, trying to find the reassurance she needed. "I love you, Quinn. Whatever other baggage you carry, I'll always love you just the way you are."

Quinn held her tight. "I promise this is the only one I have..."

Santana chuckled, "I'm glad to hear that though, because that one is already pretty heavy..."

Finally, Quinn relaxed. She pushed her thoughtful girlfriend on her back and leaned against her. She gazed, in love. "No more secrets, I promise."

"No more secrets," Santana confirmed. She shrunk in the sheets. "I may have one, though..."

Frowning, Quinn listened. "Tell me, tell me anything."

"Okay. But you're not gonna like this..."

"I don't care, I love you whatever it might be," Quinn poured her heart.

"You always buy chocolate flavored ice cream thinking it's my favorite, but really, my favorite is vanilla," Santana sighed, faking heaviness. "I'm sorry, it's probably going to break your heart but that's the real and absolute truth. I dig vanilla. Vanilla's my thing..."

After a second for the joke to pierce through her seriousness, Quinn burst out laughing. "Don't make fun of me!" she started tickling and tapping on her playfully.

Santana defended herself, giggling. "I'm not kidding! I really don't like chocolate flavored stuff, I really don't!"

Their chuckles died when their room's door cracked. Before they could hear her, Tina tiptoed back to her room and locked the door the most quietly possible. What she just heard and saw through the ajar door was slightly persuading her that Quinn and Santana were really serious.

"I really need to fix that door, it just can't stop opening itself," Santana grumbled, already standing up to slam it closed.

- o -

The next morning, the door cracked again when Tina opened hers. The light sound pulled Santana out from sleep. She peeked on her side, Quinn was still buried in the pillows, breathing deeply and regularly. She rubbed her eyes, slowly waking up. Soft steps resonated in the hallway, probably Tina heading to the kitchen or the bathroom. Not that she was in the mood, but Santana woke up nevertheless to take care of her love's friend.

Unsurprisingly, Tina was waiting in the kitchen from Quinn to wake up, looking at happy pictures of the fridge. How embarrassed she looked when she caught sight of her professor in her night clothes, without any makeup on and rubbing her face to pull some energy out of the morning fog. Saying that they were talking was a bit too optimistic. They exchanged short hello's and basic questions about coffee and how much sugar.

Taking a seat around the table, Santana didn't really know how to start a decent conversation. "You... Do you want me to wake her up? I don't know, maybe you're not comfortable staying with me alone... I4d understand, honestly," she obviously cared.

"No, no. It's cool, Miss... Lopez..." Tina stammered on the name.

Santana chuckled. "You can call me Santana, you know. At least in my house, I'm not your professor here."

Tina fidgeted uneasy. "I don't think I can do that. Not just yet," she admitted sipping her coffee.

"I can't blame you for that," Santana kidded. "I don't think I could either if I was in your position."

"Yeah, that's strange..." they shared a frank smile. Reassured by her professor's kindness, Tina took the plunge. "Was it strange for you too, at first?"

"You mean when Quinn and I started dating?" Tina nodded and Santana let out a nervous laugh. "You have no idea! She kept calling me Miss Lopez and me calling her Miss Fabray. We were always super careful not to do something wrong that could harm the other, it was... ridiculous," she explained around loving smiles. "We were such fools... We needed to find a balance, you know. How to disconnect school from home."

"Yeah, I can believe that. But how you and Quinn... started? You don't have to answer if you don't want to, though!"

"It's fine! You can ask whatever you want," she said around a friendly smile.

"Because it slightly confuses me... I thought Quinn and you met this year, in class, but since she said it started last year... How did you met?"

Santana smiled wide. Those memories she was about to tell were good ones, very good ones. "By the end of Quinn's sophomore year, she won a Literature Prize, you remember?"

"Oh that thing she was working on all year?"

"Yes, exactly. I was tutoring her. I just got hired at Yale, that was my first year teaching so the administration gave me all these little missions of tutoring and Quinn was one of them."

"Oh right, I remember now you're telling this. Yeah, the new tutor... Okay, gotcha."

"So I tutored her for months. We started working at the library, then at cafés... we spent a lot of time together. At first we were working all along, but soon we started to discuss about Literature instead of just studying, mostly because Quinn didn't really need my help. Yet it was the procedure. Each candidate had to be tutored for the contest."

"So?"

"I had all these feelings growing inside, I was fascinated by her, really. She amazed me every single time we met. But the guilt was growing as well. It was my first year and I was so mad at me for those feelings... So I said nothing, did nothing."

"And Quinn, did she feel the same way in the meantime?"

"I suppose..."

"So one day, you kissed and end of the story?"

Santana laughed. "Oh god, I wished!"

"What happened then?"

"Well, during our last tutoring sessions, I offered her to come study here. It was more convenient since we spent long hours chatting and this way we could work until the end of the night without being bothered. And to be honest, I guess I also offered that because my unconscious was pushing me to do so, bringing Quinn in a place safe from prying eyes, in case, you know..."

Tina's feet drummed on the floor. "I don't want to know those details!" she laughed nervously.

"I mean, in case we kissed! Nothing else, gosh..." Santana smiled. "I didn't even know if she was gay or even into me, I was just sailing through the storm the best I could, I guess. I was so scared!"

"About what?" Tina asked kindly, now hooked.

"That she'd reject me if I tried anything. But our very last session came and I still hadn't any clue whether or not Quinn liked me... the way I liked her. That was during the last week of the school year so there wasn't a sea of options in front of me. It was now or never. So when we were done with our final session, I..."

"She tried to kiss me but I pushed her away," Quinn let out, standing against the door frame.

Beaming, she took a path around the table to kiss Santana hello on her cheek, in case Tina would feel offended to see them kissing like the real couple they were. She took a seat and kept telling the story on her own.

"Oh yes, I was into her. I was madly in love. I was thinking about her all the time, dreaming about her at night... I was just... pathetic," she laughed. "How could I not be in love, though? Santana was gorgeous, and so smart... and she was caring about me, that was obvious."

"Can we turn that last sentence into present, thank you," Santana joked as she went to serve a coffee to the storyteller.

"Of course, we can," Quinn breathed out, diving in the Santana's eyes with love.

"Keep going!" Tina cheered, craving for the end of the story. "Why did you push her away if you were already in love?"

"For the same reason that Mercedes pushed me away last night, that was supposedly wrong. I couldn't accept my feelings just yet. I figured that it was just a crush and that it would go away."

"Did you know she was gay?" Tina pushed.

"Yeah," Quinn grinned. "One day, I used her restroom and on my way back, I kind of sneaked into her bedroom-"

"I didn't know that!" Santana laughed.

"Well I did sneaked into your bedroom and I spied for a bunch of minutes. There was a book on her bedside cabinet, a lesbian poetry book. I thought that this proof was striking enough considering that it had been read so many times that the pages were all creased and dirty," she giggled. Santana crossed her arms to hide her mirth. "The bookmark was on a page with a poem about a blonde girl-"

"_I am beauty, mortals, under my blonde crown, And my bosom, where hundred souls had drown, Is bruised love, inspirational for the poet, Eternal and quiet, murmuring content," _Santana chanted by heart that poem she had read thousand times, all eyes on the woman who had colored with her features each rhyme of these lines.

"Yup, that one," Quinn laughed. "Well... I kinda took it for myself, perhaps she was into me and perhaps she was reading lesbian poetry about blonde girls to satisfy her most thirsty frustration."

"Rude!" Santana started.

"But true," Quinn teased winking. "I was on my way to admit my feelings when Santana tried to kiss me. She was just one note early on my music. When she came really close to me, I panicked. Oh I really wanted those lips," Tina hid herself behind her hands, those details were still too strong for her. "I really did but I wasn't ready. So I panicked. I packed my stuff and left like a thief."

"What a mess was I that night..." Santana grumbled, half-giggling at the memory which now sounded funny, but back then, truly... it had been a sheer nightmare.

"Didn't you run after her?" Tina asked the professor.

"Oh no... I used my courage when I tried to kiss her. She literally stole all my bravery _and_ destroyed my self-esteem when she passed that door running," she chuckled, pointing at the front door. "I think I might have drunk a whole bottle of wine on my own that night. Maybe even two, I can't remember..."

"What happened after that?" Tina hurried.

"The Literature contest," Quinn smiled. "I kicked that mothafucka contest right in the balls and I won it because I wanted Santana to be proud of me, mostly. But after my panic attack, I felt like shit so I took advantage of the year ending and-"

"And she disappeared all summer," Santana stated, a hint of bitterness coloring her voice.

Quinn flushed red as they were both starting thinking about _the_ memory, that event that had changed it all.

"She left me like that. Without a chance to explain myself, or even tell me it was a misunderstanding. She just ran away. Tina, believe me, I thought about her all summer. But I prayed with all my heart not to have her in my class the next year. Imagine how terrible that would have been!"

"So after that summer, I came back to Yale to get my room ready a week before the courses resumed. I was terrified to bump into her on campus. I literally blent with the walls all week until the moment I saw her. I saw her making her way to the administration building and I just died. Honestly, there's no other word to express how I felt at this particular moment... I just shit myself. I ran back into the dorms and paced on the floor for hours until I lost it. I literally lost it. So I took the first bus to go to her place."

"And then she knocked on my door," Santana cooed.

"And then?" Tina hurried. "What happened next?"

The memory was too heavy. Their gaze was burning as the souvenir was throbbing in their hearts. This was the dearest moment of their whole history together. Santana remembered well, as if Quinn had been knocking on the door yesterday. Quinn was still feeling the adrenaline making her veins boil while waiting for her professor to open this damn door...

"_Miss Lopez, it's me, Quinn", she rang frantically the doorbell._

Inside, Santana was in a state of shock. She looked at herself in the first mirror, her comfy home clothes that weren't sexy at all, her messy hair tied in an approximative bun. She couldn't open the door like that, she just couldn't. She ran to her bedroom, grabbed the first shirt that wasn't all creased, untied her hair and let her curls fall with the hope that it would do.

"_Miss Lopez!" Quinn drummed on the wooden door. "Miss Lopez! It's me, Quinn Fabray!"_

_Santana didn't have time to arrange her make up, she'd have to go as she was. She tapped on her cheeks to make them blush a little, to look less tired from a summer spent crying over lost chances of romance._

"_Is there anybody in? Are you there? Miss Lopez?"_

_Fearing she might leave thinking nobody was there, Santana pulled herself together and yelled. "Coming!"_

"_Thank God, you're here..." she heard Quinn breathed out when she approached the door, a martyr running like a fool to her own agony._

_She opened the door like one would remove the bandage of a painful wound, fast and gritting her teeth. Her breath died when her eyes fell on Quinn, the same sunny hair, long nose and perky smile, sparkling emeralds replacing human eyes. It took less than a second for both of them to understand each other's desires._

"_I'm not in your class this year, I'm in Mr Stewart's," Quinn broke the silence. "You won't be my professor or tutor this year."_

'_Don't be awkward, don't be awkward', Santana kept repeating herself. "I know. I went to check on my students list this morning and you... weren't on mine."_

_Again, throats tightening and hearts hammering, the silence was speaking volumes. Quinn let out a shy sigh, seemingly pulling herself together. "So what do we do now?" she asked with pleading eyes._

_Santana bit the inside of her cheek. She didn't know what to say, what to do. She had strong guesses about the blonde's intentions - her expression was striking enough - yet she needed a confirmation after a summer of depressing blues. "What do you mean?"_

_Quinn mouthed words that refused to come out. "I'm not quite sure why but..."_

"_But what?" Santana pushed, praying with all her heart they weren't misunderstanding each other once again._

"_I miss you..." she admitted in a whisper, simple words obviously costing a lot to her pride. She closed her eyes and frowned, "... in a way I shouldn't be missing you..." _

"Tell me! What happened then!" Tina insisted bossily. Quinn and Santana were looking at each others, love drooling on the kitchen table, that was cute. Okay, but on her part, she wanted the end of the story, and she wanted it now.

Quinn chuckled, breaking the intense stare she was sharing with Santana. They let the memory dwell on their silence for some delightful seconds. Never they had told this story, such intimate moments. Never they had to rethink the storm of emotions it had all represented.

"Tell me you let her in, please tell me you played nasty and sent her back home," Tina begged.

Santana beamed, "I let her in."

* * *

Tell me what you think :)! xo


	5. Juliet & Juliet

_Santana parted and gestured with a flourish that Quinn could come in... if she wanted. Flustered, Quinn didn't hesitate. She passed the door with the clear feeling that there would be no turning back._

_"I'm sorry not to have, hm," Quinn cleared her throat. "Not to have given any news after..."_

_Santana awkwardly stood there, lost in her own home. She crossed her arms, feeling hot and cold at the same time. "Hey, it's fine. They sent me your paper and the results anyway. Congratulations by the way, I didn't get the chance to, hm... congratulate y-"_

_"I wasn't talking about the contest, Miss Lopez."_

_"Oh." A bomb could have crashed on her, she would have felt less damaged. "It's fine..."_

_Was it, really? The 'Bridget Jone's Dairy' uncountable replays and all those playbacks on Mariah's songs that had taken up Santana's summer, were they "fine"? And what about the hundred-ish liters of wine she had drowned her sorrows in? Fine as well? She wanted to forget them. Forget all of them. Bury them in a hole in the back of her garden and never think about them, ever again._

_"It's just that... This situation is quite new to me," Quinn admitted._

_Santana played with the edge of her shoe, avoiding Quinn's stare at all costs. She sniffed, "with a, hm... a professor? Because I've never done something like this before either."_

_Quinn came closer, only to make Santana cross her arms tighter. "I'm sorry that I pushed you away like this. I needed time to process through it."_

_"Don't... hm, worry, it's... fine, really," Santana stammered in a too high pitched voice. She'd always been a bad actress at hiding her feelings._

_Quinn came closer again and Santana took a step back. "I didn't mean to harm you..." She shyly put her hand on her ex-tutor's arm, forcing the brunette into a frozen position. "Can I have a second chance or is it too late?" she asked in a barely audible murmur._

_All Santana could do was breathe deeply, and even, accomplishing such a natural task felt like a miracle. Stealing her chance from the petrified woman, Quinn took a step forward, reducing the room between them to nothing. She offered her lips to be kissed but Santana couldn't move, not after months of silence and guilt. Quinn took the plunge, she gave her the lightest kiss, a feather falling on the corner of her lips. Quinn offered her lips again, and this time, Santana stopped being a fool in love._

"Okay you let her in, but come on, details!" Tina laughed, her shyness was now all forgotten. The story she was hearing had warmed her heart and she wanted more.

Quinn chuckled. "What details? You don't need instructions to understand what happened next! I stayed for the night," she admitted around a flustered smile. "That's all you need to know."

Under the table, Santana was stroking her love's thigh lovingly. Indeed, nobody needed to know how their hearts had enjoyed the best holidays they could have ever wished for.

_Kisses here, kisses there, kisses everywhere. Santana couldn't get enough of those lips, her perfume, her delicacy. A whole world of softness was melting right in her arms, letting her drown under waves of delight. She let herself when Quinn pushed her further in the house, she didn't complain at all when she heaved her up on the kitchen table. Diving from her rock of shyness, she didn't hesitate for a single second to unbutton her jeans so Quinn could pull on it; she didn't hesitate to run her hand through blonde hair while Quinn was making her way down her core; she didn't hesitate to kiss her deeply, mouthfuls of happiness satisfying their thirst. If she was doubting if it was worth the guilt, it all evaporated thanks to Quinn's dexterity. She drank from Quinn's mouth, like biting into the forbidden fruit, a drug already burning her tongue._

_Quinn wasn't any less satisfied. Around her, tanned legs jumped and quivered to an ancient rhythm inherited from the first woman. No barrier resisted the influence she had over her lover: as she made Professor Lopez tremble the way she did, Quinn was traveling far, so far from usual teacher-student rapport. But it felt good, it felt natural, it felt like it was meant to be. She was getting more confident as the minutes went by, exhilarated by Santana's moans, the ones she had dreamed about so many times. Her guesses, sculpted in wonder and amazement, seemed dull compared to these which escaped luscious lips. Quinn was finally admitting, her soul yelling loud and clear: which she was in love with Professor Lopez._

_She made Santana sway more powerfully, the latter tilting her head back to get more air, lungs expanding and contracting harshly, diving again head first in the tender smell of her lover's neck. Soon, Quinn's shoulders ceased to be a support strong enough for Santana's shaking body, so she grabbed the edges of the table to gain leverage for some deeper pushes, setting both of their thighs on fire._

_"Quinn, I just... I just, ugh..."_

_Quinn smirked, reading into her like an open book. She made Santana lean flat against the table, pulled one of Santana legs over her shoulder and granted the other woman a few seconds made of heaven._

_Santana frowned as she mouthed words of love which her heart, beating horrendously loud, couldn't let out. When she opened her eyes, she had quite a hard time believing the sight was real. Her shirt was all creased, her bras straps had deserted her shoulders a long time ago. Quinn was leaving kisses here and there on her weak leg stuck on her shoulder. Bracing herself, she went to catch Quinn by the neckline of her shirt, making her fall on her._

_"You're staying here tonight, aren't you?" she breathed out, panting, her tongue playing with her own lips. Quinn softly laughed, nodding. Santana playfully tapped on the valley of her lover's breasts. "Good, good... Because you're not leaving this house without the favour..." she moaned, enjoying the last waves, "returned... but I just need a minute."_

_Quinn grinned. "Take your time, I have all night."_

"We tried to meet during the following week but we realized very quickly that seeing each other on campus was quite..."

"Risky as hell. It was impossible actually," Santana chuckled. "We kept bumping into professors or other students. And we were discovering each other on top of that, this situation was delicate enough. There was no need to complicate it even more..." Without realizing it, she stopped stroking Quinn's thigh safely hidden under the table. She held her hand instead, previously playing with the edge of her mug. The gesture didn't go unnoticed, their tenderness was obvious. Tina had no doubt about it. "We could have gone out in the open, I wasn't her professor by then, but I guess we just wanted to stay in our bubble for a while," she explained around a caring smile.

Intertwining their fingers together, Quinn kept telling the story. "I came the next Friday, just like I had the week before. And from then on, Friday at her place was our weekly rendezvous."

_This time, Santana was ready. She was waiting for her. The table was set for a dinner for two, the bottle of wine was already open. No comfy home clothes, Santana was decked out in a tight sexy dress she had bought for the occasion, a silk scarf tied around her neck with style. She had checked her makeup dozen times, neatly arranged the cushions on the sofa. Their second time together was meant to be perfect. Santana wouldn't accept anything less than sheer perfection._

_When Quinn dared to ring the bell, the door flew open and Santana pulled her in, already craving for lips. The adrenaline of meeting again faded away slowly, simply leaving behind words of affection._

_Quinn was radiating beauty and happiness. "I missed you."_

_"Oh gosh you have no idea..." Santana pulled her into another kiss, in need to satisfy her thirst. "I made you dinner, is Mexican alright? This is what I cook best..." she scratched her back of her neck, awkwardly enamoured. "Because you know, my parents are hm, of Mexican descent ... Whatever..."_

_Quinn peeked over Santana's shoulder. The tablecloth was ironed, the crockery was fancy, probably the prettiest set Santana olwned. There was a candle in the middle, waiting to shine. On the kitchen furniture, she caught sight of other candles, messily hidden, as if the number of candles on the table was the last thing Santana was checking when Quinn decided to ring the bell. It was clear. In Santana's mind, this "thing" happening wasn't an affair, it was a love story in the making._

_Quinn beamed. "It's perfect, actually."_

_Santana didn't know what to do with herself. "Do you want something to drink before... like hm,... like a drink or anything? Before we have dinner I mean! I didn't mean, hm, you know. Yeah, dinner..."_

_Inside, Quinn was sweetly chuckling at Santana's awkwardness which seemed to perfume the air with tenderness. If she was trying to make her fall in love for good, she was sailing in the right direction. "Yeah sure, I could go for a drink..."_

_Santana was much more confident with a drink down the gullet. Long conversations could resume around fresh wine and tasty food. Once in awhile, a stroke, a caress escaped from their passionate speeches. Quinn felt taken care of, like a lady. Never had Santana treated her like a younger person, or immature. Never had she dared to use an expressions such as "You'll see when you get older", "That's what you think when you're 19..."; "Oh... young innocence!" Minor details, yet Santana was scoring very good points by acting this way. Everything was flowing just fine, naturally, until Quinn bit into her last mouthful of dessert. She put the spoon down and looked at Santana's plate, empty. Suddenly, she very clearly noticed the professor's throat tightening. She pulled the napkin from her lap igracefully and stood up, making her way to Santana. Stroking her jaw, Quinn exuded temptation._

_"Thank you for the dinner, it was a delight."_

_"My pleasure," Santana answered, captivated by the spell of Quinn's eyes._

_Grinning, Quinn untied Santana's scarf and smelled it. "Can I... borrow this?"_

_In adoration, Santana nodded. With a smile that never left her features, Quinn parted to put the scarf away in her bag on the sofa, making sure she wouldn't forget it. This scarf would be very convenient back in the dorms, when she would miss Santana like one missed air._

_"But you're not... You're not leaving just yet, are you?" Santana worried, standing up._

_Quinn turned around, her smile cutting her face in two. "Of course not. I was just afraid to forget to borrow something before I do leave. I missed your smell all week. I don't want that to happen again."_

_Barely reassured, Santana said nothing, a poor little thing in love standing in the middle of the living room. One button at a time, Quinn started unfastening her shirt. She left it on the back of the sofa, smoothing it down._

_"I'm leaving this for you, in case you... miss me next week," she purred. She walke back, all bare shoulders and loose skirt. "because that will happen, right?"_

_Santana nodded, arms open readily, willing to cuddle. Their steps to the bedroom were like the first notes of a breathtaking melody. Light violins and shy cymbals trembling along their heartbeats. Both of them knew that the intensity of the music would increase, how the gust of notes, the peak of their growing tenderness would feel like... that was no mystery anymore. Yet music was a drug, and they couldn't wait to replay the song._

_Quinn's light body hit the mattress of Santana's bed in a aetheral move. Moans already escaped their throats, they had missed each other so much. Santana pulled her against the pillows, fluffy clouds to welcome her Queen. She covered her stomach in wet kisses until she made Quinn fold her legs around her neck. The blonde ran her fingers through her black hair, her piercing glances exhilarating her mind. Nothing in the world would have made her trade her place. The heat her lips were tasting was too lovely, the hips under her touch were too soft to ever consider stopping their affair._

"I thought you were visiting your sick aunt!" Tina jolted, pointing at Quinn accusingly.

The girl in question flushed crimson. "No... I needed an excuse for not being at any parties on weekends, so I made up that aunt thing. I was here all along. And weeks after weeks, seeing each other only on Friday nights wasn't enough anymore. So I started staying around on Saturdays as well, and then all weekend."

"When did you move in, though? When did you guys decide?"

Santana giggled. "We didn't really decide, it was... obvious. We had spent all year building that secret affair and it was getting harder to think that it would be exactly the same the year after. And even before that, we had to go through the summer separated from each other."

"My parents had planned that travel to Europe for a long time, you remember?" Quinn asked smilng at Tina.

"Yeah, sure!"

"So we knew that we just couldn't see each other for months. That even calling each other would have been hard..." Quinn gazed at Santana while playing with the joints of her girlfriend's hand.

"The only thought of being separated for weeks was driving me crazy," Santana admitted from the bottom of her heart.

"So one night before the summer started, she asked me to move in. And to be honest, it didn't take long to make my decision," Quinn sang, glancing at Santana amusedly.

_"Quinn," Santana called breathless. Her hand playfully caressed her love's collarbone. They were enjoying a moment devoted to pillow talk after an intense bout of lovemaking. Her ear listening to heartbeats through her flesh, Santana was thoughtful. "We can't keep going like this for another year..."_

_The blonde immediately straightened in the bed, forcing Santana to sit as well. "What do you mean?" she inquired, worried. "I'm just leaving for two months, it's going to be hard but it's nothing we can't... hm, survive."_

_"Yeah I know!" Santana reassured, stroking and taking her position again. "I mean that you'll be gone for a few months, and we'll start the same weekend routine but... I know how it feels to miss you for a whole summer and I know even more it that feels to meet you again right after and..."_

_"And what, Santana?" Quinn pushed._

_"And I'll miss you even more..." she almost weeped, her voice trembling with emotion. "It's going to kill me to wait for that damn Friday, it's already killing me and weekends with you barely make it up for the longing..."_

_"I'm doing my best, honey. If I see you during the week, I'd have to catch up with work on weekends... That wouldn't be any better, that would just change the routine," she defended. "But if you prefer shorter weekends and a break during the week, that's more than fine for me... It's just that I'd have to find a reason to tell Tina and Mercedes why I escape the dorms more often than just weekends because the sick aunt thing is convenient but they won't buy it for long..."_

_"Yeah I know, don't worry. In the meantime, I'd still have to wait for you, just during shorter amounts of time so..."_

_"Are you implying that we should stop hiding?"_

_"Oh gosh no... Imagine if you're in my class next year! God no."_

_"Then what are you offering? I don't see what else we could do..."_

_Santana buried herself in Quinn's neck. She needed a little pick-me-up to pull herself together, and her love's perfume always worked just fine for that. "Move in with me."_

_Quinn swallowed thickly. "Here? With you?" The requirement was clear yet her mind had a hard time assimilating it._

_"Yes."_

_She let out an astonished chuckle. "You do realize what you just offered, don't you?"_

_"Yes," Santana breathed out, looking up._

_"It's insane, Santana... I don't have any money to live on my own. My parents pay for my rent in the dorms. They won't give me money to live with my girlfriend, supposing that I tell them that I'll leave the dorms to live with you, of course..."_

_"I don't care about money, Quinn. I make enough for both of us to live on more than comfortably. The black cloud is that you'd have to tell your parents, of course..."_

_Quinn pondered on the thought for long moments. The proposition was tempting: no more waiting, no more sneaking around. No more sleepless nights to kill her work before the weekend. Just her love's arms every single night._

_"If I tell them," Quinn began. As the proposition seemed to echo in the blonde's mind the way she had expected, Santana straightened herself in the bed to read her expression. "You tell yours as well. If we do this, I want us to do a neat job. I meet your parents and you meet mine, because I refuse to hide what our relationship is to them if we..." she hesitated on the last words. "If we..."_

_"If we start a life together?" Santana helped._

_She breathed deeply. "Exactly."_

"So you moved in during the summer?" Tina stressed.

"Yeah, by the end of the summer. I told my parents during the vacation and they met Santana a few days after we returned. I met Santana's almost right away as well," she explained, as those memories flipped in her mind, awkward parents and awkward daughters sitting around tables trying to find the right words. "Eventually, mine agreed on letting me live with her."

"And yours?" Tina asked Santana.

"Oh well... I'm almost thirty. At some point, I can do whatever I want with my life regardless of my parents' opinion," she giggled softly. "Meeting Quinn's parents was completely different than meeting mine. I just had to introduce Quinn as my girlfriend who I'd live with from now on and that was pretty much it. However, this one's parents put me through a damn job interview," she laughed pointing playfully at Quinn. "They must have thought I was a serial killer or..."

Quinn giggled looking at her mug, still embarrassed for those two hours spent in her parents' company, their insanely intrusive questions and over the top, almost theatrical, protectiveness. "Can we skip passed that please? Being around them together will be forever awkward..."

"By the way, I'm still shocked that your mom almost bumped into my underwear when you moved in!" Santana burst into laughter.

"Oh god, I don't want to hear about that..." Tina half-joked.

_Quinn caught the headrest of her mother's seat in the car. "You could have just lent me the car. I could have moved my stuff with friends, really... And even, you don't have to stay, I'll just take my boxes out of the car and I'll probably put them away later," Quinn tried her best to get her parents to leave as soon as possible._

_Yet, Quinn's mother was determined to inspect every corner of the house her daughter would be now living in. She had agreed on letting Quinn do whatever she wanted, even offered to pay for half of a rent which Santana had declined out of kindness, and a little bit of fear. It was with a wallet full of cash that Quinn was making her big entrance in Santana's house, her mother having insisted on her to pay for everything else, so their partnership could be as equal as possible. Yet, her generosity was very convenient to make it up for her embarrassing curiosity._

_"Don't be ridiculous, Quinnie! I deserve to know where you're going to live, plus I'm sure Santana's house is very sophisticated," she defended, adopting a motherly yet refined tone as she inspected the street her husband was driving through._

_"Seriously Mom, it's fine, really!"_

_"If I didn't know you, I'd be convinced you don't want me to spend time with this charming Santana of yours," Judy teased around a smile._

_Defeated, Quinn sighed. She watched the houses passing by the window with a heavy heart. Already feeling that day would be a plain torture, she shrugged. "It's here," she indicated, pointing between the seats at the right house._

_Judy already loved the flower beds on each side of the door, the light grey covering the walls and the white panelling. "Lovely!"_

_"Really, you can just help me get my stuff out of the car and then you can leave, really..." Quinn insisted one last time._

_Quinn's step-father parked in front of Santana's garage, the professor already opening the door after having heard them coming. Quinn wasn't the only one embarrassed. Santana, arms crossed, was awkwardly standing on her doormat, a kind smile stuck on her lips out of politeness._

_"So this is the place," Judy cheered, standing out of the car, like a bee in a pot of honey. "Well, your neighborhood seems quite charming, Santana!"_

_"Thank you but don't stay outside, please come in..." Santana offered, half-convinced by her own kindness._

_Inside, Judy was a hurricane. She inspected every single book in Santana's library and that wasn't an easy thing to do, considering a whole wall in the living space was covered in bookshelves. "That's... impressive..." Judy breathed out while reading titles she never thought could possibly exist. "My father always said that good libraries define good people. It's important to have a great library in a house." She took a book out of a shelf. "The Origins of P-I-...?" Judy tentatively read on a book. "What does P-I-E mean?"_

_Santana rushed forward, taking the book from Judy's hands. "Proto-Indo-European," she explained, handling the book with the utmost care, almost reverence. But her new sort of mother-in-law was a stubborn one, and she snagged the book back to inspect it further. "It's the first language humanity used, it's crucial to hm... understand how modern languages are formed."_

_"Remarkable... And you have a lot of books about that, I see. You like... old languages, I suppose?" The job interview was endless._

_"I did my PhD thesis on that," Santana answered. Judy gestured to explain further. "My thesis was on P-I-E inheritance in European surrealist poetry"," she revealed, scratching her head. Not that she had something against housewives like Quinn's mother -or even hers, yet she was a little annoyed to have to justify her career to non-experienced people. What Santana liked always sounded so boring in their opinion._

_Judy stared at her for long moments, trying to understand why the hell someone could work on such a topic. "Fascinating! I guess... for those interested in those kind of subjects..."_

_"Santana, can you just come here to help me?" Quinn shouted tentatively from the hallway leading to the rooms._

_Santana was already on her way, answering her savior's call with the determination of one escaping torture. "Sure!"_

_Taking her by the hand, Quinn led her to their bedroom and closed the door in a hurry. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"_

_"About what?!" Santana worried. "You don't want to leave already, do you?"_

_"About my mom! I tried everything to stop her, I swear I did!"_

_Santana laughed. It's all good Quinn, she won't be here forever..." she admitted lowly, biting her lips._

_Quinn sat on the bed, soon followed by her new roomie. She let herself fall on the mattress, already so tired. "Maybe if we stay here for a while, they'll get the hint and leave..."_

_Santana topped her, giving a reassuring smile. "Your mom is good training for when we'll have to tell the Dean about us," she joked._

_"Can I... just die already? Like I don't know, can I dig a hole in your garden and bury myself in it?"_

_"Our garden," Santana corrected, her love like torrents flowing from her black pupils._

_Quinn smiled wide. "You always have the right word for me... Kiss me," she breathed out._

_"Quinnie darling, you need to empty your clothes box before they get creased," Judy called before their lips could even graze._

_Santana's head fell in the crook of Quinn's neck, defeated yet giggling. "Coming, Mom!"_

_Shrugged, they parted and opened the door, Judy standing like a Rottweiler waiting for food. "All your silk shirts are going to crease if you don't hang them up right now!"_

_"Yes Mom," Quinn let Judy enter their bedroom._

_"Okay, so this is the bedroom..." Judy commented, keeping looking at every single detail in the house. Quinn just wanted to die. "Is there a dressing-room?" Quinn opened the right door, showing a little room with numerous drawers and closets. "Nice, nice... Very nice. Are these your drawers? Where are you going to put your clothes?" she said, already opening a drawer._

_Quinn slammed it closed with a rushed shove of her hip. Her mother really didn't need to know what Santana's lingerie looked like, nor discover the fact that she was into black lace and other sexy patterns. "No! That's... These ones are Santana's... They're, hm... hers."_

_"Then show me yours instead of standing here like a vegetable! Move, come on! Your boxes won't put themselves away!"_

_Santana left the room terrified, giggling out of stress and fearing a burn-out. She headed outside. Fresh air, she needed fresh air. Truthfully, she needed a cigarette, maybe even the whole pack. But there was, no way, Santana would puff on one that day, not with Quinn's mother and her inquisition around. She inhaled the breeze deeply, feeling slightly better out of the house._

"Yeah, you're right, we're going to pass on that," Quinn laughed. "And anyway, I moved in and here I am now!" she let out lightly.

Tina smiled. Worry for her friend seemed like a far memory now. Perhaps telling her their story had reassured her that this relationship wasn't a joke or a "maybe it will work" kind of partnership. Never had Tina found, through the little stories, a single word of doubt or uncertainty. They had convinced her to support them.

"Quinn," Tina called softly. "I'll talk to Mercedes. I'll figure something out."

* * *

Surprise! Fast update! I hope you liked the chapter! Have a goodnight guys :) xo


	6. Between the raindrops

"Honey, hit him on his side, hit him on his side!" Quinn cheered from the couch, laughing with Santana's little sister. In front of them, Santana and her younger brother were fighting hard against each other, each holding the controller for the video game. Santana was hitting buttons frantically but, alas in vain, her player wasn't in a good position at all... thanks to her brother's insanely ridiculous video games skills.

"I'm trying! I'm too old for this bullshit," Santana laughed, trying to find a valid reason to justify her failure.

"Oh come on! Show me your guts, babe!" Quinn urged. "Make a diversion!"

Santana's brother chuckled, satisfied. "Admit you just can't compete with my superiority, just admit it," Joachim teased, eyes on the game.

Santana slapped the back of his head hard almost making him lose grip over his joystick. Their mother rushed into the room at the sound and sighed immediately. She hurried to slap both of their heads.

"You don't slap each other!" she cried shrilly, glaring daggers at the two miscreants who hung their heads. Her children could be 18 and 28, but they still acted like damn toddlers.

"But mom, you can't slap us after telling us not to, it doesn't make any sense. Parenting; you're doing it great, mamita!" Santana joked.

Maribel fumed, speechless. "Mrs. Literature PhD still thinks she's worth more than me! You weren't complaining when I stayed at home to watch you instead of going to my Prom! Is that good parenting for you?" she fought back under Santana's exasperated sighs. It was always the same story... Maribel and José, who had fooled together a little too early, had ended up marrying at 16, forcing her mother to hide her pregnant stomach under a poofy white dress. A youth stolen, all the things her parents had missed ... Yeah, Santana knew the story well. "Anyway! Quinn, I'd like to show you some dresses! I'm going through our Quinceanera outfits and maybe one will fit you!"

Santana laughed into her palm discreetly. She didn't need to look at Quinn to figure out her girlfriend was wearing a polite yet embarrassed smile on her face. "Mom, leave her alone. She doesn't need your old things, she already has nice dress-"

"No, it's fine! I like... vintage things..." Quinn cut in, looking at Maribel hesitantly.

Santana turned around and grabbed her arm. "Really, you don't have to go if you don't want to," she half-giggled.

"Come on, Quinn-darling," Maribel insisted already pulling on what she was sure was going to be her new daughter-in-law's arm. "Maybe you'll find one you like!"

Santana threw her a light kiss, already feeling guilty for letting her mom steal her girlfriend this way. Quinn winked, knowing deep down that she'd be ok. After all, a bunch of old dresses couldn't murder anyone. She hoped.

"Aaaaannddddd done! You're so fucking done, Santana! I'm a master, a king, the new Obama," Joachim congratulated himself as the death of Santana's character on the TV shone in big angry red letters.

Santana threw her joystick to the ground and went to sit close to her sister on the couch. "Life friggin' sucks."

"It's a game, San. You're gonna survive," her sister Isabel said with an eyeroll.

Santana let out a chuckle, trailing off into a thoughtful silence. "Can I tell you guys a secret?"

"Yeah, sure." Isabel smiled.

"Quinn... she had a baby when she was 16, but she didn't keep her. She gave her up for adoption."

Her siblings had one unified thought: _When mom finds this out.._. They shared a doubtful look between them. Their mother, who had always tried her best to turn that 10 minute mistake into a lifetime of bliss, would have hard time swallowing this. Especially when out her of three kids, Quinn had chosen Santana specifically, the "accidental" first child.

"Talk about full circle..." Joachim breathed out, astonished. "Does she know about you?"

"Are you stupid or what? With Mom talking about it all the time, and the age difference between you guys and me, I'm pretty sure Quinn knows about it," she spat. "But we never talked about it though and now I understand why..."

"But why are you so bummed about it? It's just the way it is. She gave up a baby and Mom kept you, whatever! Life goes on!" Isabel said simply, hitting the couch cushion for effect. "She had the right to make a different choice. We can't blame her for that, neither can Mom."

"Yeah, you're right. But it feels like it's left unsaid, we just don't talk about it and it's bugging me. I really don't know how to bring that on the table without making it sound like a problem."

"Because it's a problem?" Joachim pushed.

"No, not at all. I mean, if someone can understand her, it's us, right?"

Joachim let out a chuckle. "Mostly you. Our childhood was pretty great... We had real diapers, not recycled ones."

She tapped his knee with her foot. "You're such a douche," she laughed.

"So what are you going to do then? If it's bugging you, you really should talk about it with her..." Isabel said softly, her big brown eyes so similar to their father's shining with resolution.

"I think I..." Santana began, looking at her shoes. She thumbed the joints of her hand, deep in thought. "I think I'm going to propose. I'm really thinking about it..."

Her siblings froze. "What? Propose what? A trip to Hawaii?" Joachim mocked, slightly confused.

"No! To marry, I don't know..."

"Why?! I don't understand how you get from 'my girl got a baby' to 'let's wed in Las Vegas'," he admitted in a high pitched tone that had his sisters staring at him incredulously. He blushed and cleared his throat again. "I mean …"

"Because I want to prove to her that I want to stick with her, I really do. All she keeps saying is that it's her story, it's her past, now we're together and it's totally different but... in the end, it's still there. I don't like that," Santana sighed, opening up her heart and willing her brother and sister to understand. "I really don't! If we're together, we're together with our story. I'm not interested in only getting the nice parts, I want to deal with the bad things too. I feel like proposing is the right way to show her that I'll be there whatever happens."

"But she's 21. Maybe after the baby, she doesn't want to do things too fast, you know..." Isabel said cautiously, trying to calm her sister's fervour. She knew how Santana could get. Once she had an idea in her head there wasn't much you could do to deter her. And that's where she came in. She made eye contact with her sister and raised a challenging eyebrow.

"That's why I'm saying that I'm thinking about it... I need to test the waters."

"Yeah, but imagine if she says no? What are you going to do? That's a great way to get your couple fucked up then... It's not like you can go on as if nothing happened. If she refuses, will you stay with her?" Joachim added. Isabel nodded at her brothers words even as Santana's expression darkened. They were simply looking at all the possibilities and outcomes. They weren't trying to hurt her.

"Of course! I can't live without her, I love her!"

"Yeah but if she refuses, imagine... you'd go to bed with someone who refused your eternal love by your side , awks..." Joachim winced.

"Yeah, he kinda has a point there," Isabel admitted with a matching grimace.

Santana bit her lip, frowning. Joachim shrugged. "Can't you just buy her new earrings or something?"

"Yeah, or just save the proposal for later like... when you guys can live outside like normal people. Maybe you should wait until next year, see how it goes when everybody will know, yeah?"

"Yeah, you're probably right..." Santana shrunk against the sofa.

"Santana, you're not going to believe how gorgeous Quinn is," Maribel sang from the hallway. Quinn came in, dressed in a very romantic white dress and blushing so cutely even Isabel aww-ed. And considering the large grin on her girlfriend's lips, Santana had no doubt about the fact that Quinn had actually enjoyed this little bonding moment with her girlfriend's mother. "Isn't she gorgeous?" Maribel said smoothing the dress.

That damn white dress. Santana grit her teeth. The glow Quinn was wearing because of that damn dress felt like a fucking knife twisting the wound her heart had turned into. She swallowed thickly. "I bet she is..."

"I actually really love it! I think I might keep it. I could add ribbons on the waist to make it look less like... you know... a _white_ dress," she laughed.

"What colours are you thinking about?" Maribel was already hooked, her sewing machine already plugging away in her mind.

"Beige maybe, or a light grey? Just something to light up, make it look more hipster than vintage," Quinn was grinning sunnily under Santana's gaze. "What do you think, do you like it?" she asked, swaying a little.

Santana nodded, her heart so damn heavy.

- o -

"Stop being so stubborn!" Tina raged. She was hot on Mercedes's heels, zigzagging through Yale's hallways between rushing students.

"I'm not going!" Mercedes hollered loudly, determined to the last. Attend class for that hoebag? Hell. To. The. No.

Tina had enough of hearing the same words for the hundredth time. She forcefully pulled on Mercedes arm and raised to her full height. "Listen to me! I know you don't want to see them but hey, breaking news, she's still your teacher! And if you keep refusing to come to class, you're gonna fail your class and she won't save your ass!"

Mercedes waited for her to finish to make her point by raising her hand, face sunk into an unmovable expression of determination. "I'm not going!"

"Gosh, Mercedes! You're going to lose your scholarship if you fail this year! You have to pass Literature, whether you like it or not!"

"I - don't - want - to - be - in - the - same - room - as- them. I really don't!"

Tina fumed, eyes narrowing dangerously. "I don't care! You're coming!" She pulled the girl by the arm with all her strength. She was insisting so fiercely that Mercedes just couldn't get out of her hold.

"Tina, you're hurting me!"

"I'll buy you a band-aid but you're coming with me to class!" Tina was unyielding. She had put up with Mercedes's stubbornness for weeks. Three weeks in fact. Three weeks Mercedes skipping class, refusing to speak to Quinn, and mentioning Santana's name only made everything worse.

"This is ridiculous!" Mercedes complained, forced to take a path to the right class.

"You're ridiculous! I'm forced to drag you, do you realize how far you're taking this!" Tina raged on their way inside the classroom. To be honest, Tina was so pissed, she was even considered hitting Mercedes with her feet to make the girl stop being so damn annoyingly unwilling to move.

"I don't want to go!" Mercedes shouted just as she was about to be pushed through the open door.

"Glad to see you, Miss Jones. It's been a long time," Santana said, also coming in through the door. She barely looked at the fuming woman, acting just the way she would for any other student. She immediately took her seat at her desk, waiting for all the students to come in.

"Now you can't run away." Tina kicked Mercedes in.

Inside, Quinn shrunk in her seat. She kept looking for a page in her book, even though she already was on the right page for the day as Tina went to take her usual seat. This was how they always sat, Mercedes on the right, Quinn in the middle and Tina on the left. But this time, Mercedes rushed to the back on the class and curled up in a seat next to a boy with an afro who leaned over to sniff her hair. And if that wasn't bad enough, she had no book; she wasn't prepared at all for this class. Groaning, Mercedes prepared to tough this out, glaring at the professor at the top of the class before averting her eyes.

In the meantime,Santana was going through the usual formalities, glancing once in awhile at Mercedes who kept looking out the window. Kindly, Santana took her own book and walked to the back of the room as a student was answering a question. She put it on her table, Mercedes still stuck on her position.

"We're on that chapter," she whispered opening the book to the right page. "I won't ask you any questions this time but try to get on board for next class," she explained softly, using a tone she had never before used in one of her classes.

Mercedes refused to take hold of the book. Santana just put it down in the right page and left. She glanced at Quinn on her way back to the desk. She didn't miss the extreme sadness on her love's face, or the tell tale signs of bubbling tears. She continued with her class as usual but today she had no fire, no passion for teaching. Quinn was but a shell of her normal self, Tina kept glancing at Mercedes with furious eyes and the latter was still watching the window, resolute in her stance. It was a major relief for everyone involved when the bell rang.

"Jones, Cohen-Chang and Fabray, I would like to talk to you," she called, while looking at her papers, monotone, as the students were leaving one by one. But Mercedes was rushing through the crowd. "Jones, if you pass that door I will write a very kind letter to the disciplinary committee and please do believe that my voice counts more than yours," she sniffed coldly.

Rolling her eyes out of rage, Mercedes took a seat as Santana waited for the last student to leave. She went to slam the door shut and locked it not to be disturbed.

"I have a class after this one, I need to go," Mercedes defended herself.

"I'm sure you do. However you didn't feel that remorse for my class..." she said, leaning on the table right in front of Mercedes. Quinn was petrified and Tina was finally glad that they were at least talking, whether it was in a good or bad way.

"I don't want to talk to you, I don't want to be here, and I'm pretty sure it's illegal to lock me in like thi-"

"You shut your mouth and you listen to me," Santana shouted, leaving Tina, Quinn and Mercedes to gawp at her. "You don't like me? Fine, I don't care!"

"Santana, please, don't make things worse..." Quinn pleaded.

"I'm sorry, but you need to stay out of it. She doesn't have a problem with you or us, she has a problem with me," Santana looked right into Mercedes's eyes. "I'm right, aren't I?"

Mercedes cleared her throat, looking away.

"Come on, say it, let it out!"

Silence filled the room.

"You know what I think? I think that when you welcome your teenage pregnant friend under your roof, you are way more open-minded than the obtuse bitch you're being right now," she accused. Everybody gasped, Mercedes included.

"I don't see what the fuck Quinn likes about you, you're a fucking heartless whore!" Mercedes stood up, pointing furiously at Santana. She turned around, facing Quinn. "What the fuck, Quinn?! I don't understand! Why her? Is it just about hot teacher/student sex? Because that's not enough to make you happy!" she yelled, enraged.

Santana applauded cynically. "Well done, Jones! Well done! 'A fucking heartless whore!', wow, that's... colorful... I-love-her, Mercedes, I love her! What do you need from me to take our relationship seriously?!"

"I don't think that can ever be serious," Mercedes let out, rolling her eyes. She frowned in Quinn's direction. "I'm sorry Quinn, but I don't buy it! Out of all the sexy available asses in town you could get, you got to choose that one!"

"Mercedes, stop! You're so fucking closed-minded it hurts! They love each other, they really do! And you did nothing good to them! She didn't know about Beth and still they're getting stronger because of it. I can see it myself! What they have is real so stop being so selfish!"

"Wow, congrats, what kind of love is this if Quinn can't even tell her about Beth! Huh? Real romance?! Bullshit!"

Quinn couldn't take it anymore. She came in between them on the verge of tears. "I didn't tell her before because her mom was 16 when she had Santana but she didn't give her up like I did! I didn't want her to feel rejected in any way!" she sobbed.

Mercedes felt like she'd been hit by a bus. She was forced into silence, numb on her chair. "I didn't know that..."

"You don't know anything!" Quinn cried, wiping furious tears down her cheeks. "Anything! You don't know her story, you don't know _our _story, you don't know a damn thing and still you keep judging us as if you did! That's exactly why I didn't tell you guys at first, because it was real and serious, and I didn't want to get influenced in any way by fucking prejudices like these. This is _my _love story, okay? My life, my choices! She's my right fit. And I'm sorry to say that, but yes, you helped me back in the day, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm the only who can decide what I want to do with my life!"

Mercedes didn't know what to say. She was angry, so fucking mad at them for reasons she wasn't sure of. She wanted to sort things out but she couldn't picture a way out. "I want to protect you, okay?"

"I don't need to be protected!"

"Then explain to me why you're with her?" Mercedes rolled her eyes.

Quinn shook her head, she didn't see the point of that question. "What the fuck?"

"Why are you with her then if you don't need someone stronger than you? I don't know... she's a professor, she's... powerful or some shit like that, and you probably feel more protected with someone like that but it's not okay, I don't want that for you... I want you to feel safe on your own and I don't get how she could help with that..."

Quinn's eyes went wide. "Her protecting me?! Are you kidding or what, she's more whipped than a pot of cream! No offense, babe," she cracked a smile in Santana's direction.

"None taken." Santana gestured to herself with a fond little smile. "Heartless whore, whipped like a pot of cream... I'm not counting," she lightly joked through the madness.

"Seriously, if you'd just comply to listen to our story one time, you'd know that we're fair equals. She's not prevailing over me, not at all... and most importantly, I love her and she loves me. That's all that matters."

"I second that," Tina said with a raised hand, taking the seat right next to Mercedes looking at them all doubtfully.

"Mercedes, I love her. I really do. I know you don't trust me for that but I do have a heart and it's all for her," Santana admitted around a smile, willing to put their fight behind them and move on. "We have a home, a nice garden, everything we need to create a stable and happy household surrounded by our family-"

"And your family, what would they do when they know? Do you think your mother's gonna support you with that," Mercedes sniffed in Quinn's direction.

"They know," Santana stated firmly. "My family loves Quinn, she knows all my siblings and my parents, and she'll meet the rest of my family at my sister's birthday next month. I'm still trying to put up with Judy's curious nature but I'm on my way," she defended herself with a shy chuckle. "It's a just matter of time."

Mercedes looked up at Quinn with lost and wounded eyes. She was stuck in a difficult place, between anger and care for her friend.

"So you told everybody but us...? Do your friends know?" she asked Santana frankly.

"No, my friends don't know because we're doing everything together, one at a time. First family, then living together, witnessing how well it works, and then waiting for the end of the school year to tell everybody, Yale's staff included. You weren't supposed to know before the end of the year."

"But what if she's still your student next year?" Mercedes was passing through all the details in her head.

"I won't. I stop majoring in Literature by the end of the year. It was hard to choose but I can't keep having both Law and Literature on the go like that or I'll kill myself while getting my master," Quinn admitted, taking a seat as well. "So yeah, I chose Law because that's what I really want to do. I want to be a lawyer. And you know what I really want?" she asked Mercedes directly in the eye with a tenderness coloring her voice.

"What?" Mercedes feared the answer.

"What I really want is like... creating something with her, like a family. Not now, after my PhD because I want to do things neat this time, but someday, yes. And I want to start working in this right now. I want my PhD in Law. I want to be a good lawyer. I want to make money to support my family and do things well. That's what I want, and she's helping me accomplishing that dream," she said softly, looking at Mercedes and imploring her with wet eyes to understand.

Behind her, Santana looked at her shoes. For someone who had been wondering for weeks on whether or not she should ask _the _question, she felt like a fool for having doubted even for a second that Quinn might actually say no.

* * *

Yay an another chapter, I just can't stop writing that story, it just writes itself hahaha xD Tell me if you want specific things to happen or whatever, the more ideas I hape, the longer the story will be :) ! Shout that in the reviews :) xo


	7. 21 años

Even though Mercedes was a tough one, Quinn was even worse. After days of pleading, the blonde in love had managed to get her friend to agree to a party at their house. Just a small gig with Tina and two of Santana's dearest friends. This would be a great opportunity to get a fresh start with Santana. And to be honest, Quinn was a bit overwhelmed by the fact she was about to meet her lover's friends. As time went by, the deadline loomed. In a few months, they'd be in the open and the adrenaline it induced was breathtaking... and overwhelming. After all, Mercedes could do this small thing for her, she owed it to her after the hell their friendship had been lately.

There was Mercedes, standing in the middle of the kitchen while looking at pictures on the fridge. Quinn and Santana weren't the type of couple to lip lock every three seconds. Mercedes hadn't seen them do even the smallest thing since she got here, less than an hour ago. However, the pictures on the fridge were speaking volumes, as if they were compensating everything Quinn and Santana couldn't do. Like kissing outside. Mercedes sipped her beer, deep in thought.

"I don't know what to do with myself!" Quinn let out excitedly, as her mind rushed with thoughts.

The kitchen was a mess. All the good food Tina and Mercedes had helped to cook was ready. Beers were cooling in the fridge. All they were missing were Santana's friends.

Santana laughed, enamoured. For the first time since Quinn's friends got here, Santana made a little loving gesture under Mercedes's awkward stare. She very softly tickled Quinn's neck, a playful motion to calm her down. "Relax," she whispered barely audible to her girlfriend's ear.

Mercedes cleared her throat quietly, uneasy by the show of affection. It would take her a lot more time than a couple of days to get used to seeing her professor hitting on her best friend like this.

The doorbell rang. "Oh god," Quinn whispered, eyes widening.

Grinning, Santana left what she was doing and dried her hands in a cloth. She went to open her door, skipping through the living space like a little girl on Christmas morning. Quinn was petrified. She came closer nevertheless, scared to the bone.

"Oh my gosh, I missed you!" Santana cheered as soon as the door was open.

A tall Asian man snuggled into her arms within a second and heaved her up, making her sway when her feet left the ground. "Almighty Mikey Mike, I need to introduce you to someone!" she let out between chuckles. He put her down, smiling wide and clear as Quinn came closer, her heart beating loudly in her own ears. "This is Quinn, my lady," she sang.

"Very pleased to meet you, Quinn," he softly said, so very happy to finally meet the mysterious girl Santana had refused to talk about for months.

"Same," Quinn replied all flustered.

"Don't start the partyyyy without meeee," a woman called from outside, her voice making Quinn think of a burst of colour and rainbows.

"Brittany," Santana breathed out, beyond thrilled with the new apparition.

The tall blonde woman came in, arms held out, already willing to hug her very dear friend. Laughing, they hugged tight as if they hadn't seen each other in years. Smirking, Brittany held out her pinkie for Santana to catch. "S, next time you come back home, you pay me a visit, your parents aren't the only ones there!" she teased.

Giggling like a schoolgirl, Santana grabbed her pinkie with her own and shook their hands playfully in a timeless gesture. "Yeah I know, but I got busy with..." she let go to catch Quinn by the hand. "With this one."

"I'm Quinn," she said around a shy smile.

"How surprising, a blonde," Brittany laughed, poking Santana in the ribs.

"Things never change," Santana shrugged, all pink cheeks and bashful smiles. "But don't stay out here, come in guys! You have more people to meet!"

The party started with embarrassed people around the table as, once again, Quinn and Santana explained their story. Mike listened attentively and nodded quite understandingly and Brittany seemed very... fluid. They didn't react like Mercedes had and merely shrugged their shoulders, which got the woman even more embarrassed. Little by little, Quinn and Santana relaxed on the couch, shrinking in the cushions, making themselves comfortable. Beer bottle caps flew open, nachos dipped in tasty guacamole, everything was present to create a nice and cool atmosphere around stories from high school, college years and old memories together.

"And then I slapped the crap out of Finn!" Santana laughed, as she recounted her coming-out story.

"So..." Quinn fidgeted uneasy. "You're actually Santana's first... ex?" she tentatively asked in Brittany's direction.

Brittany didn't really know what to say. Feeling a growing awkwardness, Santana came to her rescue. "Yeah, kinda. But it was like... 12 years ago? Gosh, it feels like past century..."

"Yeah, it was just a high school crush, nothing serious," Brittany winked at Quinn, trying to reassure her, even though Santana and Brittany themselves knew this was a big, nasty lie.

"You should have seen us in high school though, our dance moves were setting school girls pants on fire," Mike joked to ease the light tension.

"Including yours apparently," Quinn murmured under her breath.

Santana stroked her thigh. "Don't be jealous, really. Don't," she cooed, putting a light kiss on her cheek. Never had she seen jealousy on her lover's features. Even if it would make Mercedes uneasy, Santana couldn't care less. She went to hold her love. She shrunk deeper in the couch, taking Quinn in her arms. She pulled her into a deep kiss, they had never kissed like that in front of people before, including Santana's siblings. Quinn kept licking her own lips again and again, still enjoying taste long after they had pulled apart. She would let it pass for now. Snuggling, Santana dove back into the conversation.

"You know what, if you two ever marry, you wouldn't have to change your names," Santana said, creating a diversion.

"You're a Chang as well?" Mike sat closer to Tina, to her greatest pleasure.

"Cohen-Chang, actually," she answered blushing at the good looking guy.

"Chang-Chang... That sounds like a train rolling," Brittany laughed.

Santana snorted, "just don't pay attention to her, she's in her own world sometimes..." she explained around a joking smile while grabbing another beer on the table.

The party kept going, people actually starting to get to know each other. Until late that night, laughs and jokes resonated in the house. Tina started nodding off, alcohol and exhaustion kicking in. Little by little, everybody left after last hugs and happy smiles. Brittany was the last to go. She had insisted on staying to help them clean the mess they had made and with Quinn busy grabbing the empty bottles on the table y the sofa, Brittany took her chance to talk to Santana in private.

"So you two, it's serious then?" she inquired in a low mass, taking advantage of the noise Santana was making with the dishes.

Santana sighed. "Yeah, it is."

"Babe, I'm gonna throw that in the garbage outside, be right back!" Quinn shouted, already on her way out.

Santana waited for Quinn to leave, closing the door. She turned the water off and leaned against the sink. She shrugged. "Britt, I'll be honest with you. I don't want you to hear it from anybody else but me..."

"What?" Brittany frowned.

Santana scratched her head, uncomfortable. "I'm gonna ask her to marry me. I don't know when, but I'll do it."

Brittany stared at the ground. She rubbed her neck, sniffling.

"I'm really sorry, Brittany."

"Hey, it's fine! There's nothing to feel sorry about. It's... ancient history now," she said, cracking a weak trembling smile.

"Yeah I know but... you were my first. And I know you and I will always have this bond. It's part of us, that's why I need to be honest with you. I kept trying to protect you all along but with Quinn in the picture now, I can't do it anymore."

"Santana, I never asked you to run your love life differently because of me."

"I know but still. I care about you, I didn't want to hurt you... Britt, let's be completely honest, I know you still have... feelings," Santana cleared her throat. "But now, we can't keep going like this as if nothing was happening. That's why I wanted you to meet her, so you can see this is real and that you shouldn't..." she crossed her arms, feeling cold. "... keep hoping."

In the meantime, Quinn was coming back into the house. She wasn't sure why, but an inner voice told her not to go inside just yet. Instead, she went around the kitchen window and listened carefully. All night, she had doubts about Santana's blonde friend. Her stares and too kind smiles. Obviously, they had more history than Santana wanted to admit. That was worth a little spying, just to be sure.

"_You're really sure this time?"_

"_What do you mean, 'this time'?"_

"_It was supposed to be serious with Lana as well... but it didn't stop you from coming back... home. How do you want me to stop hoping if you keep coming back to me?"_

"_Last time was a mistake," _Santana stated coldly._ "And it was the very last time. You and I won't happen ever again. Quinn is my home now. Lana was a joke compared to what I feel about Quinn. It's just... Yeah, she's the One for me. And I'm 100% sure about that."_

Quinn heard Brittany sigh sadly. Discreetly, she peeked in the window. Brittany had a pouting smile stuck on her lips.

"_How can you be so sure?" _she almost threatened.

"_She makes me want to have a family, marriage and kids... It's the first time I feel like this about someone."_

"_We're 28, it's our age talking,"_ Brittany argued. _"It's normal to want such plans for us, we're getting older. That doesn't mean anything. She's 21, she's not in the same place as us-"_

"_No, Brittany. She's the one for me. I love you, I really do but if I loved you in a way lovers are supposed to love each other, or even if it was only the age talking, I would have gotten those thoughts with you. But I didn't and for me, that's a clear enough proof. I'm really sorry, Brittany. But this time, I couldn't be more sure." _

Brittany swallowed thickly. A long silence ensued, Santana looking at her friend with eyes that told a story of how hard it was for her to destroy every hope her friend might have. Santana's love for Quinn was obvious. It reassured the spying blonde even though the conversation had turned sour.

Brittany sighed again, cutting in back into conversation. She held her pinkie out. _"Okay... Pinkie promise, I'll get over it... one day," _she barely joked.

Santana caught her pinkie. _"You will always be my friend, B. Quinn doesn't change that. Nobody ever will." _

"_I can work with that..." _Brittany cracked a smile.

- o -

"Looking good, Quinn!" Isabel cheered as the couple passed the front door of Santana's parents house. Santana couldn't get enough of how well her sister and lover got along.

"Happy 15th birthday," Quinn sang.

Could they look more lovesick? Nope. Holding each other's hand, they dove into the crowded house, full of aunts and uncles, cousins running everywhere and chatting friends. All were united to make this day, Isabel's quinceanera, a wonderful memory. Quinn wasn't the first Santana had introduced as a girlfriend. Lana, her ex, had indeed tasted the joy of being introduced to the whole clan, four to five generations of Lopez's. However, she had also been the first to suffer from the awkward stares induced by the fact that there was a lesbian in the family. And even worse, a proud one. Santana's family had been looking for every black shadow in Lana's personality, which had led her to the conclusion that no, Santana's family wasn't fond of her. And especially not of her piercings and grunge look. To Santana's greatest exasperation, Lana had turned into a silly joke people told on Christmas Eve.

Quinn however, was another story. As the blonde made her way through the staring crowd, each member of the family was already counting the points Quinn was scoring. Santana's new girlfriend was wearing Maribel's dress which she had accessorized in her style. Fabray - 1 point. She looked like an angel, big smile, perky eyes, a nice word for everyone. Nothing like the Lana del Rage Santana had brought last time. 2 points.

"Of course I speak a bit of Spanish! Me alegra estar aquí," Quinn answered Santana's grandparents' question.

"Muy bien!" they laughed under Santana's happy gaze.

"Thank you! I have been learning for a couple of months so it's still a bit unsteady but I'm getting there! I really want to understand what Santana says when she speaks Spanish, I'd like to share that with her!"

Fabray - 98 points.

To the future career question, Quinn excelled. "Oh! I'm targetting a Law PhD. To be a lawyer obviously," she chuckled.

Fabray - 99 points.

Santana gloated. That was a faultless performance on Quinn's part. Even _she _had hard time talking to the blonde, since her family was monopolizing all of Quinn's time. Kept aside, Santana gazed at her love softly building her way into her family's heart. She leaned against the doorframe, away in her thoughts.

"Come on mi amor, don't just stay here like that!" her mom playfully pushed her with a little hip move.

Santana smiled, flustered. "She's too busy for me anyway," she joked.

Her mom laughed. "Marisa, make her pass the entrance test in the Lopez family!" she shouted to an aunt, Santana already facepalming at the exclamation.

Quinn frowned in her direction. The flustered Latina gestured to her that there was no need to worry. They barely had a second to exchange this silent thought before Marisa pushed the latest newborn of the family in Quinn's arms.

"The tradition says that if the last baby of the family doesn't like you, you're not going marry someone of this clan," Marisa explained loudly and proudly. "Never fails."

"That's stupid! It's just an old wives tale," Santana laughed. "Don't pay attention to that!"

Marisa glared daggers at her. "You're just saying that because last time, mi'ja farted in your ex's arms!" The assembly laughed. "Say whatever you want, but the tradition works. Proof! Where's Lana?! Ah! It worked for Carlos, Julie and Pasena, it works!"

Quinn began to rock the little baby that wasn't older than a couple of months in her arms. Memories kicked in, long buried but not forgotten mothering instincts rearing its head. Santana gazed at her girlfriend with a baby for the first time ever. Like a stab right in her ovaries, Santana shrunk against the doorframe. She couldn't be more sure about her proposal now. The baby smiled in Quinn's expert hands. Fabray - 100 points, bingo. She wasn't afraid to hold him at all. She was playing with him, putting little kisses against his forehead. Seeing her do this, the family was already betting on the wedding date in their heads.

"Aw, she has something with babies!" Maribel cooed in her daughter's ear before leaving to join the rest of the family.

Before Santana could stop her, her mom was already asking embarrassing questions Quinn didn't know how to answer.

"Yeah, I want kids but... after I finish my studies, when I have a stable job," Quinn stated. "I'm only '21 años', that can wait a little longer," she said lightly.

"Good! That's always what I told my kids, protect yourselves and be careful. One thing at a time, they must not do like me," Maribel explained, with words she had used what felt like the thousandth time. "If one of them has a baby before their thirties, I think I'm gonna rip their heads off!" she joked. Quinn smiled, embarrassed. In the meantime, Santana was dying on the other side of the room. "When we were young, we were getting married at 18 anyway, we didn't have any protection, nothing... But now the kids have everything they need not to make the same mistakes as us!"

Santana had enough. "Quinn, can you come over here? I need help getting Isabel's presents out of the car," she said frantically, throwing the first excuse she could think of. No need to be told twice, Quinn was already giving the baby away and skipping through the room. "Mom, can you come as well?"

"What did you buy her that requires three people to get it out of a car," Maribel laughed as she came around.

"Babe, it's fine..." Quinn reassured, whispering.

"No, it's not. I don't want her to tell you that kind of thing."

"What kind of thing?" Maribel inquired as she overheard their whisperings..

"Come outside, I need to tell you something," Santana clarified. Both mother and girlfriend followed Santana willingly. Outside, there would be no curious ears listening to them.

"I don't want you to tell her those things like ripping our heads if we had kids too early-"

Quinn pulled on her arm. "Don't, really, it's fine! Don't..."

"For me, it's not!"

"What's happening? Is one of you pregnant?!"

"No!" Santana blurted. "Quinn, she..."

"I gave up a baby for adoption when I was in high school," she admitted, looking at the ground.

"Oh..." Maribel took a step back.

"But it's fine! I totally share your opinion, it's just that... it happened nevertheless..." Quinn tentatively explained.

"But why didn't you keep them?" Maribel tried to understand, shaking her head.

"The father wasn't a man like your husband, I was kicked out of the house and living at a friend's... I had nothing. Barely any clothes, no money to keep her, and the woman who adopted her is incredible. I don't regret my choice, Maribel. Not at all."

Maribel took a second to swallow the news.

"That's why I don't want you to... say those things in front of her. I want you to respect her and her life, okay?" Santana made her point watching the way her mother's left eye twitched uncertainly.

"Okay. I'm sorry Quinn if I hurt you," Maribel apologized, a little bitterly, as if Quinn's spell had broken. She wasn't the sheer perfection Maribel thought she had been not a moment ago.

"It's fine! Really!" Quinn pleaded hands clasped in front of her .

"Can I go back inside now?" Maribel cut in sharply. Santana nodded, almost snarling.

The party resumed, but Maribel did not approach them again. The mother laughed and smiled to her family with an automatism only Santana and Quinn knew the source of. But thankfully - for the three of them -, the large family kept them busy all afternoon. When the party calmed, people exhausted by music and conversation which had lasted hours, Maribel started to frantically clean around the house. Santana wasn't a fool, her mother loved cleaning to ease her mind. Her stare over her mother was clear enough, Quinn worried.

"Maybe we should go..." Quinn whispered.

Santana snuggled closer. "Nope. It's her problem if she can't deal with it. Not ours."

"Santana, I really don't want to rock the boat..."

"You're not-" Santana recognized her ringtone escaping the mountain of coats and bags on a couch. "Hold on," she said on her way to grab it. When she peeked at it, she frowned. She gestured she'd take it outside, leaving Quinn alone on the sofa.

Saying that Quinn was very uncomfortable was an understatement. Arms crossed on the sofa, she waited patiently, answering a question once in awhile but now way less invested in the party then she had been. Passing behind her, Maribel tapped her on the shoulder, making her jolt. Maribel indicated the kitchen with a light nod and a deep glance.

In the kitchen, Maribel closed the door so they could stay on their own for a while. "I don't understand, Quinn..." she admitted. "How can Santana be so okay with this? I mean..."

"She knows I did the best for my daughter."

Deep in thought, Maribel served them drinks. She sipped her glass, seemingly replaying the same song in her head over and over again.

"What I don't understand is that Santana wouldn't be here if you had been in my position. She wouldn't have even existed."

"With all due respect, she would have, just not with you," she dared to say frankly. "My daughter is in good hands, very good hands, and I would never have been able to provide the life she's having right now."

"So she has a pretty house, expensive clothes, I get it. But she has no mom, you're not with her."

"She has a mom, just an adoptive one. Maribel, realize that I would have been alone with my baby. Completely alone, with no house, no money, no family. I couldn't provide her a future, or provide myself one."

"We had a hard time in this house, but that doesn't mean it lasts forever. See how Santana is, healthy and well-educated... You could have managed, there's no problem, only solutions!" Maribel blurted shaking her hands.

Quinn sighed. "I hear you, but I just made a difference choice-"

"The easiest choice!" Maribel accused.

Quinn's jaw dropped. "Because you think it's... _easy_... to give up your child? It's the hardest decision I've ever made! It killed me to do it, it killed me in every way... but I was just a kid, I had to think about what was best for her. I regretted it for years but now that time has passed and I know,_ I'm sure_, that she's much happier where she is. Because I wasn't that serious student that rebuilt herself back then. I was a wreck, Maribel! A complete and absolute wreck! By getting her adopted, I saved both of us and neither what you or anybody else can think will change that," she finished, cold and angry as she thought of the pretty blonde child whose picture she still kept close.

Maribel took the argument as passively as she could, nodding but saying nothing. After having looked for Quinn everywhere, Santana stormed into the kitchen.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, body tense and voice strained as she took in the sight of her mother and girlfriend standing only a few feet apart.

"Your mother had questions for me..." Quinn explained.

Santana felt the rage growing. "What questions? I told you to respect her!"

"I want to understand why you are okay with this," Maribel let out, sniffling.

Santana closed the door and locked it. The click was ominous in the sudden silence. She came by Quinn and held her hand in support.

"Because who are we to judge? You only see the fact that she made a different choice than you, but me, all I see is that her daughter won't have her parents repeating over and over again the same old story about how 10 minutes can ruin your life!" she accused. "So yeah, I'm down with her choices because maybe that child is also a mistake, but she's the greatest gift to her adoptive parents and I'm sure they make a point of repeating that everyday!"

"But we love you! You're a gift to us!" her mother defended herself.

"Was I a gift as well when you saw two bars on the pregnancy test? Wasn't the wedding dress too tight?" she spat ironically, leaving her mother speechless.

Maribel took a seat around the table, dumbfounded.

"Come on Quinn, we're out," she softly said, trying to make her stand up from the chair she was sitting on.

"No, we need to talk about this! I don't want to start a fight with your family, I'd rather talk about it than leave," she tried to soften the atmosphere.

"But we gave you everything..." Maribel sobbed.

"Yeah, like free food coupons and discount vouchers as allowance. How can you blame her for having wanted better than that for her daughter? I don't, I really don't!" she threw through the heavy silence, piercing a bubble of unsaid feelings that had stayed locked in for years.

"So you mean you wished we had given you up?" Maribel let out sadly, her entire posture screaming defeat. "That you haven't been happy all these years?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying," Santana answered with a heavy sigh, calming somewhat. "I'm saying that both have drawbacks. There's no right or wrong choice, there's just different people with different stories."

"Okay..." Maribel gave up. "I'm sorry Quinn, I really am this time. I, hm... I didn't realize what Santana's point of view on this situation was ..."

"Thank you mom," Santana cracked a smile. "Come on, it's getting late anyway, we better go home," she insisted softly, pulling on Quinn's hand. This time, Quinn let herself be pulled along.

Maribel immediately stood up and went to hug her daughter. "But I love you..." she said strongly.

"I know..." she tapped on her shoulders, rubbing a bit to comfort her mother. "I love you too, mamita."

* * *

I'm still on my writing mood! But my beta isn't as available as previously (holidays should never end) so the updates might take a little longer than usual from now on!

Someone asked me if I was leaving the Brittana boat to travel to Quinntana land, the answer is no! I ship them both so don't worry sweets ;)  
Thank you guys for your suggestions, they're all noted! You still can suggest more, I'm always open to news ideas! And to the 99-100 anon (you'll recognize yourself) you just made my day, you have no idea how much xD

Love you all! xo


	8. Walking down aisles

"You're sure about this?" Quinn frowned, as Santana drove contently down the sunny morning roads.

"Hell yeah I'm sure. You're not a proper couple until you've paid a visit to Ikea together," Santana joked, eyes focused on the road ahead.

"But what if somebody sees us?" Quinn worried. Old habits die hard.

Without breaking her focus on the road, Santana stroked her thigh. "I'm gonna remind you of the fact that we chose to go on Sunday morning when everybody is still recovering from last night's hangover... and I'm just gonna answer: whatever. After all, we'll have to tell the world in less than a month, we'd better get used to people seeing us together."

"Yeah but what if someone from the Yale's school board sees us?"

Santana snorted. "Sweetie, I'm pretty sure they buy their furniture at Sotheby's, not Ikea," she chuckled.

Quinn relaxed, kind of. She grabbed Santana's hand and stroked it again and again, rubbing her own insecurity off. It's with a heavy heart that Quinn took a yellow trolley from the parking lot and pushed it through the cars. She couldn't stop glancing in every direction. Even inside, she was almost crawling cat-like, a spy looking for opponents. Santana said nothing, kept her chuckles quiet.

"Ugh, I love that one!" she blurted, catching sight of a heavensent treasure in a sea of coffee tables. "What do you think? You like it?" she asked already checking the price.

"Yeah it's nice but I like the one we have, we don't have to change it."

"I know! But it's not about buying stuff we don't have, it's about buying _our _stuff for _our_ home," she explained around a fond smile. "Stuff we choose together..."

Quinn giggled at that. "Can't wait to reach the fridges...

"Why?" Santana asked, barely looking up, writing the reference on a piece of paper.

"50% off on the whipped cream..." she teased before Santana smacked her on her shoulder with said piece of paper. "We gotta fill _our_ new fridge while the sale is still on!" she roared laughing under Santana's light smacks.

"Bitch," Santana breathed out, her laughter softening.

"Yeah but I'm _your_ bitch, hun," Quinn let out grinning, offering her best smile to request a kiss Santana would have hard time not granting.

Santana let her chuckles die as she tried to focus back on the mission of the day. "Right... I might just get a new wife as well..." she kidded grumbling away, eyes downcast on her reference list.

Quinn frowned. She wasn't sure of what she just heard. "What?"

"I said, I might just get a new girlfriend as well, since this one is the reincarnation of Rasputin apparently," she stated, going back to the tables, unaware of her Freudian slip. "So we're good for this one? White or grey? Or shall we keep the one we have?"

Inside, Quinn had a hundred butterflies fluttering in bliss. She stared leaning against the trolley, playing with her lip. "I like the one we have best."

Santana shrugged. "Nevermind. But I _wantz_ a new carpet to go under it!" she pointed threateningly as she led Quinn through the aisles.

"As you please," Quinn cooed pushing the trolley.

Santana's phone buzzed. Without realizing it, Quinn was already searching for it in her lover's messy bag thrown in the cart.

"Hey babe, it's Brittany," she called. "Again..."

"Leave it, we're busy," Santana let out as if she couldn't care less.

Shrugging, Quinn put the phone away and resumed pushing the trolley.

After having chosen new chairs for the kitchen and more tablecloths than they could possibly use, her phone rang again. Santana took advantage of Quinn choosing new cushions to answer the call, bending a little on the trolley for more privacy.

"I can't talk to you right now," she stated with her softest voice, trying not to sound too harsh or cold.

Brittany sobbed on the phone. "_What are you.. What... you doing? It's Sunday morning."_

"We're at Ikea. Listen, I really can't talk to you right now..." she hurriedly said as Quinn was coming back.

"_Why? Because you're too busy buying a new mattress with the future Mrs Lopez to talk to me?" _she sniffed.

"Britt... You can't keep calling me every time you feel blue because of me..." she whispered and turned around a little.

"_I don't feel blue, I'm having a damn panic attack and you don't care about it!"_

"Santana, these ones or these ones?!" Quinn called lightly, a cushion in each hand.

"The red one, sweetie!" Santana shouted.

On the phone, Brittany was crying even harder. She started sobbing at hearing Santana act so lovingly with her girl. A girl that wasn't her. It was like someone was twisting the knife in the wound.

"_Red like passion, right?"_ Brittany commented bitterly.

"Brittany..." Santana sighed on the line. "You need to talk to someone else about this... not me. I won't change my mind and it's hurting you even more each time you call me, you know that..."

"_What does she have that I don't?"_

Santana turned even more around as Quinn was coming back, carrying a pile of cushions.

"She has my love," she whispered within a second so Quinn wouldn't hear. "Besides, that's none of your business." Quinn pretended not to listen in, as she arranged all their items. "Listen, I gotta go..."

"_You need new _sheets _for your marital bed?" _Brittany cried, a little too loud. Quinn raised an eyebrow, hearing that the person on the phone wasn't cheerful at all.

"I'm hanging up, Britt."

"_Santana, no... we need to talk... Please?!"_

"I'll call you when we're back home. Bye." She hung up in a hurry, too bad for her crying friend. She hurried to put her phone away, burying it right against the bottom of her bag.

"Why's Brittany crying?" Quinn inquired, seemingly detached.

Santana cleared her throat. "She has hard time swallowing bad news, so yeah... she's quite sad and she wants to talk about it, but I honestly don't know what else I can say to reassure her," she said already pushing the trolley to move on and leave that little event behind.

"What news?" Quinn defied. Santana avoided her gaze. "What news? She never called before and suddenly, you have her on the phone every day?"

She rolled her eyes. "That I love you, that's the news."

"Why does it make her so sad? I thought you guys were 'ancient history'?" she quoted cynically. "Tell me the truth, Santana."

"Can't we talk about this at home?"

"No, you tell me now," Quinn crossed her arms and stood in front of the trolley to stop her right away. "You said it wasn't serious, but apparently, that was a lie?"

"It's not a lie... At least, not for me," she admitted, biting her own cheek.

"What does that even mean?"

Santana shrugged, as if standing between the curtains and the pillows was the right place to start explaining her history with Brittany. "It was more serious for her than it was for me. At first I thought I loved her but I graduated when she didn't, and I had attractions for other girls and stuff. I realized that I just mixed up super affectionate friendship and actual love. But on her part, she really was in love with me-"

"_Is _in love with you," Quinn corrected right away

"...Probably."

"And she's kept behaving like this since high school? 12 years... really Santana?" Quinn accused.

"We had... little encounters after that," Santana admitted. Considering the hard look on her lover's face, she knew she'd better not lie.

"When was the last time?"

"Before you."

"There were 10 years before me. When?" Quinn blurted, cold.

"_Right _before you," Santana said eyes down.

"When exactly?"

Santana stared at the ground, uneasy. She had two options, lying or telling the truth, very aware that both would have consequences. But no need to make things even worse, so she told the truth. "The summer before you and I started dating."

Quinn gasped. "Wow... okay. For a girl that supposedly spent all summer crying over me, you managed to have some good times nevertheless," she spat walking on the way Ikea graciously traced for her.

"But we weren't even together! I didn't know you'd rock up on my doorstep a few weeks later! How could I have guess that?" Santana defended herself.

"I left for two months... That's a terrible display of patience on your part!"

"I needed comfort, I felt like shit, okay? I just needed some affection," Santana pleaded, pathetically behind her trolley.

"I get it, so each time we're gonna fight, you're gonna run into her arms because you have needs?" Quinn left shaking her head, walking faster.

Santana left the trolley and ran to catch her. She pulled her forcefully in her arms. She had a great argument to sidetrack Quinn's anger: She'd just tell her she was going to propose. But what a lame way to propose... on a yellow way in a furniture shop? While arguing over an ex that is nothing more than a friend? She'd have put an end to this 'Brittany issue', or Quinn might think her proposal is just a way to pacify her and make her forget about Brittany. She had to find something else to fight her way back into Quinn's heart, and she'd better do it fast.

"Hey... hey! Look at me," she forced her to turn her head in her direction, Quinn barely complying to the hug. "Don't be stubborn, please. Look where we are, we're shopping for furniture to create a home that is _ours_! I have never done that with anyone else before."

"Ikea isn't the best proof of love ever," Quinn said ironically.

"I love you, isn't this a good enough proof?" Santana asked staring into hazel eyes. "Have you ever felt like I don't truly and completely love you? Remember, my whipped cream and stuff?"

Quinn remained silent.

"Come on, tell me! All jealousy aside, did the thought that I don't love you ever cross your mind?"

Quinn cleared her throat and looked away. "No."

Santana cracked a smile and stroked her lover's back lovingly. "Are we good then?" Quinn didn't move. She kissed her, a last attempt at bringing her back to her.

"I want a new bed... and new cabinets!" Quinn let out in a satisfied tone. "I refuse to sleep one more night in a bed she might have been in... and don't tell me if she indeed did or not! I don't want to know!"

Santana grinned lovingly. "Whatever you want, _mi amor_."

- o -

Earlier that morning, Quinn had come across a little note in one of her law books telling her to meet Santana in her classroom as soon as she'd finished class for the day. _Why_? She didn't know. The note didn't say much. Perplexed, she knocked on the door.

"You wanted to see me?" she asked, sticking her head in through the doorway.

Santana was lost in the corrections of the last test of the year. She usually did those at home, she was obviously waiting for Quinn.

"You're finally here..." she breathed out, a large smile cutting her face in two.

"What's wrong?"

"Take a seat, Quinn," she softly instructed as she went to lock the door safely. "Do you remember when you first walked through that door?"

Quinn chuckled, waiting for the rest of the declaration.

"I remember it as if it were yesterday..." she purred, leaning against her desk and leaving a bunch of tables between them. "You looked as though you had chosen your best outfit; for a brand new place, for a brand new life. You smelt of pride, it was filling the room. You said "Hi, are you Miss Lopez? She's my tutor for the Literature contest" and I already wanted to kiss you. I don't know if it was love at first sight, but I had those two seconds when you leave for another world."

"Why are you telling me this now... and here?" Quinn asked, slightly blushing.

"Because tomorrow will be the last time I'm going to give a lecture to your class... to you. You're going to pass that door one last time and then life as we know it will be over, for good."

"Yeah, I have a hard time believing it too..."

Santana took a second to gaze at her girlfriend in the sheer silence. Under her partner's frown, she went to grab something behind her desk. "I have a gift for you."

"What's the occasion?"

"Do I need an occasion to give you something sweetie?" Santana sang, her heels drumming in Quinn's direction. Smirking, she slid a book on her desk.

Quinn recognized it right away. It was the first book they had ever worked on together. She grinned, taking it. "The Dangerous Liaisons... Who could have guessed where it would lead us," she joked.

"Go to page 215," Santana instructed softly, obviously leading Quinn into a game.

Let me read something for you... _Perhaps will you find my initiative bizarre, but I beg, listen before judging and don't see either boldness or recklessness, where there's only respect and trust. I don't hide my mistakes and I would trade my life for your forgiveness, if I couldn't have avoided them. Be sure that the sentiments I'm about to pour-_"

"These are not the right words," Quinn cut as that last line she was reading wasn't the one she was hearing.

Santana kept going nevertheless, eyes down on her own book. _"Are truthful and are an everlasting promise. Words are part of humanity. Telling tales, making people bond, that's what my eyes witness each time an innocent soul tries to comprehend centuries of storytelling, in this room where our tale began. I wouldn't have imagined, dared imagining, that in this life of wonders, I'd get an old soul like yours sitting by me and revealing to light the stories that had been secretly coloring the deepest recesses of my heart. Those words you have read, heard and told a thousand times before, I cherish the day you'll sing them with faith for all eternity. In my dreams, I hear them resonating against the wood of an altar, the softness of our sheets, or in my wildest fantasies, I hear them cooing along the melody of a mobile swaying right before our infants' eyes."_

Quinn put the book down, in a state of shock. She wasn't sure, but it seemed she was actually hearing well despite the heartbeats throbbing in her ears.

The reading professor didn't dare looking up. She focused hard on the little note hidden in her own book. She turned the page, still stoic... but not for long. _"Months lasted before I could find the courage to stand in front of you reading that letter. Dark shadows following me, I had. Insecurities about the expression I'd find on that face so dear to me. Youth, history... I dissected every novel my heart ever came to enjoy looking for a reaction that would be yours. I feared that my impatience would ruin almost two years of a delightful manuscript. But you couldn't be found anywhere, no talent or imagination ever created a creature like you, unique." _She took a deep breath, her shell cracking as minutes went by. _"Eventually, I realized that after my youth spent analysing other people's talent, you were, you are, my chance to write a masterpiece." _Discreetly, she went to grab a little something in her blazer pocket. She walked to Quinn staring at her notes, dreading to see her eyes. _"But since there's no author without muse, allow me to throw away my messy sheets scribbled in grey pencil. Will you agree to write both our names in black ink on immaculate paper, on the very first page of... our masterpiece..."_ she finished hesitantly, before glancing at her lover. When she found on Quinn the largest smile she had never seen, a rush of adrenaline pulsed into her heart just fine to give her enough courage to spill very expected words. Shrinking to the ground, Santana put a knee down offering a ring. "Quinn, will you marry me?"

* * *

Ta-dah! How will Quinn react? Questions, questions...

Thank you so much Lauren :)


	9. Unsent letters

Suddenly, Quinn thought that Santana had never looked so... precious. Everything about the professor spoke volumes about how dear she was to Quinn, how Santana meant the world to her. Seconds felt like an eternity while Santana knelt on one knee looking up at her. Each second she remained silent grew heavier. Her proposing fiancée's face began to turn different colors in anticipating of Quinn's answer. With her heart carrying thousands of love songs and poems, Quinn eventually pulled herself together. She let out a shy breath, smiling bright and wide and clear.

Without a word, she bent to catch her bag under Santana's terrified stare and silence. She looked for her notepad, the one with the folded corners and the sheets completely scribbled on with little thoughts, notes and memos. She flipped through the pages to find the ones Santana needed to see. She didn't pay attention to Santana clearing her throat, hurrying her. Instead, Quinn carefully tore a couple of pages apart and handed them to her girlfriend.

"I wrote this weeks ago..." she whispered, her voice altered with emotion.

Santana didn't know what to do with herself anymore. Still down on one knee, she felt like standing up was an issue, a wordless "no". She had to put the ring away to read, and it was breaking her heart. Quinn pulled on her sleeve to make her stand up, and gestured for her to take the seat right in front of her. Heart and soul both shrinking with the weight of what seemed like a rejection, Santana pulled and turned a chair to face her. The sheets she was holding were messy, their corners torn from Quinn who had kept reading her own compositions over and over again.

"Go ahead, read it," Quinn said around a reassuring smile.

_You were right. At first I didn't believe you, I didn't understand how a bunch of new pillows could change a relationship, but choosing furniture together is more important than what it seems. I love you, hence I love everything that resembles you. I'll be honest, I didn't want to change everything, because it felt like you were forcing me to kiss a part of you goodbye, the part that had created that place I loved so much. But now, it's all set around the house, new curtains, new carpets, new cushions and a new bed, and I've never felt that much "at home". You were right, it's "our home". Right now, you're taking a shower and you'll use __our__ new towels, and I'm sipping my coffee in __our__ new mugs. A random and uneventful morning in __our__ house. Not just your place where I live, regardless how much I adored it before. I absolutely love this new house, just in a different way. _

_I'm glad I trusted you and let you lead me to places I didn't know. It always feels like that with you: you're my issues and my solutions. You never are where I expect you to be. When I speak about you, I speak about you... my love. Not just a professor at Yale I fell in love with. Defining you like that feels so outdated, almost irrelevant considering how dear you are to me. How dear you have always been to me. At first, I cherished those times we spent together because your talent, the way the words were pouring out of your mouth with such delicacy, was embarrassing me and fascinating me at the same time. Never could I believe I could reach such poetry in a meant to be, natural way like yours. _

_I drank your drug with all my heart until I saw your shell crackle, until I could catch sight of your inner tenderness, your kindness. I couldn't help myself but think it was an intellectual intimacy you were willing to share with me. After all, bodies are just bodies, they vanish, turn to ashes, but spirits... They create those worlds we both adore, they perpetuate our experience, leave a legacy. And the fact - because that's a fact - you were opening that part of yourself to me, it was just... breathtaking. As far as I can recall, my heart is still in full apnea. If you could read into it, you'd see where I put you. It's a wonderland._

_During this full apnea, I didn't realize that actually, no one ever came knocking on our door. I don't have the words to explain how timid I have been when strangers started to invade my land... if I can call it in that way... Without beating around the bush, I felt jealous without finding a way out. We're not even in the open yet, what would this jealous beast turn into once we'll be able to walk hand in hand along the streets? That was a scary thought. To escape this dark place I couldn't despise more, again, you found a way out for me. I remembered those words you told me years ago, "if you're having any issue, set in context and analyse to find the dynamic." You were speaking about literature obviously, yet this is how both our minds are structured. Poetry and prose. _

_So I "set in context" what and who we are, two people in love whose life is about to change. I was only seeing the life as it is right here right now without considering how it'd be tomorrow. I saw myself stuck in what we are today, a couple standing in the shadows. I was jealous because other women had the chance to publicly call you their "girlfriend", hold your hand, kiss you and such... but not me. I pondered on my own anger for days and then I found the dynamic, the path we were on. I recalled a slip you made, you called me "your wife". As soon as the memory grazed my mind, all clouds disappeared leaving behind a blue sky. You were right, today we're rooting our life on a solid albeit new household, a solid bond because we need those foundations to reach another step in our lives. _

_Tomorrow, everybody will talk about us but no matter what they say, we'll go back home every night in a place we will have built together to keep ourselves untouched from any kind of prejudice. And while I picture this new routine, at the exact moment as I'm writing this letter, I feel like our home is also our shell, our protection. A way for us not to shatter, to have a place where we can feel safe as individuals or couple. And that, that's a gift I'm sure you never gave to anyone but me, because this is a type of gift a priest make you promise to give by an altar. And as far as I recall, there hasn't been a Mrs Lopez before... My mind fluttered around this thought all week. Now the strength of our bond is almost perceptible, physically touchable, I couldn't stop wondering what I would answer if you ever got down on one knee for me. I would only have a few seconds to make up my mind, take my decision. No doubt would be allowed. But actually, now that I think about what I would say even without any question asked yet, my mind is endlessly screaming my answer nevertheless. I'd say yes. Yes, in every sense and forever._

"...yes, in every sense and forever," Santana read along in a breath, drowning under a gigantic wave of relief that warmed her to her toes, burned her cheeks, and allowed for the forming of boiling tears threatening to flow. She looked up, her heart feeling almost too heavy for the happiness she was experiencing.

Her lips trembling, Quinn gestured to keep reading.

_How could I refuse... Even though I'm maybe too young to be married, what difference would it make anyway? I love you and you love me, and besides the fact that we'd promise to love each other happily ever after, you'd still be you and I'd still be me. What an amazing way would it be to make our big entrance in the open world. Nobody could deny our love because our bond would be written in both our names, in both our papers. I'd never be your "student" anymore, nobody would dare call me that when you'd introduce me as "Quinn, my wife." _

_Now that you've put the idea in my head, it refuses to leave. I should stop imagining such scenarios. You'll get out of your shower and it will be hard to hide my impatience to get to the moment I'm craving. And I know you, I know you'll debate for weeks, months, maybe years before asking such questions, thinking that maybe I'm too young, not ready or whatever. Well, maybe I should be the one to propose. What difference would it make as long as one day we tie the knot... You just turned the water off, I' should hide this letter before you bump into it... I love you, Santana._

_Future Mrs Quinn Lopez (I hope...)_

Love had never as similar to a drug before now. Even when their bodies tangled, even when they had pronounced the first I love you's, this drug hadn't felt this addictive. Santana had never experienced such a load of emotion before. Deafened by her own yelling heart, she didn't know how to react. Proposing had sounded quite simple in her mind, not very easy but at least simple. All she had to do was read out her letter to the best of her trembling ability and wait for an answer. And then everything went topsy-turvy. It wasn't a simple "yes" like she had expected. It was a dose of her own medicine.

Santana raised her head, her cheeks cooled by a shy flow of tears. She giggled to herself, way too happy to remain shocked. As she stared into hazel eyes, she tried to find what would be the proper reaction to this, and not to be standing there like a dumbfounded fool. But she would never tire of gazing at her grinning fiancée. What a lovely way to wait for her words to reappear.

"I wasn't the one supposed to cry," she kidded, her throat tightened by her cries as she dried her cheeks.

"Oh mine aren't far either... don't worry," Quinn shared a shy chuckle, a crimson blush flushing on her face. She offered both her hands, requesting a hold.

Santana pulled her chair closer to Quinn's table, put the letter down and grasped Quinn's hands into her own. Her fiancée rubbed her joints with a fascination only love could possibly provide. She raised the hands and teasingly, Quinn put a light kiss on Santana's ring finger.

"Hold on," Santana giggled, taking an hand back to get the ring again. "Can you just... say it? Out loud?" she tentatively said.

Quinn frowned. "Say what?"

"The answer. I'd like to hear it... before I... slide the ring..." Santana admitted, obviously torn.

Beaming wide, eyes like two diamonds, her heart beating in her ears, Quinn offered her finger. "Yes, I'll marry you, Santana."

- o -

Quinn had smiled all day until... very late that night. The morning after, it was a Quinn with sore cheeks and a full bursting heart that was walking to the coffee shop Mercedes, Tina and her used to hang out in. Having arrived early, she took a seat around their usual table, ordered the usual macchiato to the same old waitress. It was an extraordinary day in a normal life.

When Mercedes and Tina dared to surface from the dorms, Quinn was in a playful mood. She let them take a seat saying nothing. All she did was sip her coffee, holding her cup with a well decorated hand. Specifically her fourth finger. But her friends, sleepy minds still foggy, didn't pay attention at all. It was okay, Quinn would find plenty of occasions to parade her ring .

"Damnit Quinn, I just don't know what you do to be so fresh at such an hour," Tina half-complained, yawning while holding her hot coffee with both hands to maybe, fully wake up.

"I don't know... Perhaps I'm just really happy and I embraced the day," she started, her little game of clues thrown here and there depending on the occasion.

"It's my bed that I'd be glad to embrace right now," Mercedes laughed, her voice still husky from the night.

"Today's an important day," Quinn cooed, having a hard time holding her frank smile.

Mercedes let out a deep sigh motivated by a sheer happiness. "Last day of school! Yes!"

Tina laughed, "I can't wait, I just can't wait!"

Realizing that her friends wouldn't help much, Quinn decided to take the plunge. "Girls, Santana and I will... throw a sort of party, a celebration-"

"To celebrate the end of the year?" Mercedes already inquired, already imagining the scent of the nice alcohol her almost ex-professor could afford, nothing like the cheap beer that had rhythmed their nights until now.

"Nice! When?"

Quinn held a smirk. "October 15th, exactly."

Both friends glanced at each other and burst into laughter. Mercedes was the first to mock. "And you plan that now?! You're ordering packs of beers on Mars or what?" she joked between fits of laughter.

"Hey, don't laugh! I'm serious, I'm gonna need your help," she said, putting her cup down and teasingly tapping on the lid, showing off her joints as bluntly as she could.

"For what? Putting the appetizers in the freezer until October?" Tina drove the point home.

"Nope, I was thinking about decoration, dress fitting, speech rehearsal..."

"What kind of party is that?" Mercedes sighed before taking a gulp of cooling coffee.

"A bachelorette party," Quinn admitted with the softest smile they had ever seen in her face.

"Hold on," Mercedes stopped right away, an accusing finger held in the air between them. "Did I hear bachelorette in that sentence?"

"My 'bachelorette party' to be exact," Quinn teased. "Santana and I will organize the wedding on our own but I might, no actually, _you _have to throw me a bachelorette party. That's what bridesmaids do if I'm not mistaken?"

Mercedes stood up right away, almost making her chair fall. Tina had her hand on her heart as she finally caught sight of a foreign item crowning Quinn's finger.

"She proposed?" Tina let out in a state of shock.

"She proposed," Quinn confirmed, almost reverent as she gazed down at the ring.

"And you said yes?" Mercedes wanted to be sure.

"And... I said yes," Quinn chuckled.

Both Mercedes and Tina yelled in excitement and rushed to hug their engaged friend. Quinn didn't think she could be more blessed. Even Mercedes was thrilled, repeating over and over again that even if she knew that they were in love and had accepted it, she hadn't realized that they were committed in such a strong way. Quinn explained the biggest details of the long discussion she and Santana had had the previous night, thrilled about wedding planning. They hadn't been engaged for more than a few hours but their minds had already been preoccupied with details a marriage needed to set.

Quinn had explained that there was no need to wait until after her PhD to get married. It wasn't rings and new names on administration papers that were about to drastically change their life. In the meantime, Santana had insisted they celebrate the wedding at the place she had always dreamed of getting married. A phone call later, the date was fixed. And today, the very last day of her very last year of licence, it would be the last time Quinn would be called "Miss" by all her professors and most importantly, by Santana herself.

- o -

Santana leaned against her desk, facing her class for the last time this year. She sighed happily. "Well, you guys were a tough class but that's one thing you're excelled at, giving me the taste of challenge," she laughed. "But at least I'm glad to say that after having being in a cold sweat numerous times over your papers, after having repeated the same things over and over again, hundred of detention hours given... You all passed."

The class was set on fire, some applauding or cheering in their own way. In the last row, Quinn was beaming, her big smile shining through the class. In a few minutes, when the final bell would ring, they would be finally free, in every sense of the word.

"And it is with great happiness that I now can say I am not your teacher anymore. And that I'm leaving the hard task of keeping you from failing to another teacher who will cry just as much as I did for you. You'll express to that said teacher my greatest sympathies," she joked. "So what are you plans for the summer?"

"Get wasted!" a student shouted.

Santana laughed. "Well, that's indeed what summer is made for!"

"And you, how will you spend your summer?" Another student asked.

Santana immediately flushed. "Oh... I will-" she looked at Quinn, the later smiling so wide that her veins were tensing against her pale neck. She peeked at the clock, there was only a couple of minutes left. She hesitated between lying and telling the truth. In other words, living the routine they knew or starting that brand new life they had promised each other. "I will spend my summer planning my wedding."

Words of congratulations flew from everywhere but she couldn't care less about any of them. She only had eyes for those green ones gazing down at her, blessed, from the back of the class.

"We didn't know you had a fiancé! Do we know him?" a curious student sang.

Quietly, Santana and Quinn debated with loving looks if they were supposed to spill everything at once. "Yes, very well actually."

"Who is he? Is he a professor at Yale?"

Santana played with her lip and gazed up at Quinn adoringly, madly in love. "A student," she let out.

Her students started to share low whispers, inquiring if someone knew and why they hadn't told. Quinn's grin exploded like a firework, dazzling all who came in contact with it as she scrunched her nose, trying not to laugh.

"Miss Lopez... Can we know who it is...?" a student tried, pushed by others but quite embarrassed to have been designated as the one to ask.

"Yes, you can." Santana enjoyed the last seconds before she and Quinn would have to kiss their old life goodbye. "This fall, I'm going to marry Miss Quinn Fabray."

The class went silent. It was too much information at once. Softly, one by one, the students looked back at Quinn. If they were having any doubts, her expression made it very clear that it wasn't a joke at all. Tina on her left, Mercedes on her right, the two friends were smiling almost as wide as Quinn herself, happy for their friend. Quinn grabbed the edges of her book, showing off her joints and the ring crowning her hand.

"Damn Quinn, you banged the teacher?!" a student let out dumbfoundedly.

But the bell rang before Quinn could answer, not that she actually would have.

For the last time in front of Quinn, Santana pronounced her favorite word loudly with her biggest smile. "Dismissed!"

The students rushed out, all talking about the same thing. They all glanced at Quinn, scrutinizing her moves. Now, the way she was acting with the teachers aroused all curiosity. As usual, she waited for everyone to leave the class to give Santana a word, yet this time, a group of students were glued to the entrance.

Smirking, Santana left her sacrosanct place behind her desk to walk to the door and closed in under the disarmed stare of the students.

"I officially am not your professor anymore," Santana cooed.

"And all I am now is your fiancée," Quinn murmured, snuggling into her love's arms.

"May I just say how good that sounds," she laughed. "Quinn, give me your bus pass."

Quinn frowned. "What?"

"Give it to me!" Santana insisted with a tight lipped smile.

"Alright, alright..." Quinn looked for it in her bag and handed it over, somewhat perplexed.

Under her dumbfounded stare, Santana grabbed a pair of scissors on her desk and cut the bus pass in tiny pieces.

"Hon!"

"From now on, this will be completely useless so I just need to destroy it, I just need it..." Santana chuckled.

"I paid for this!"

"Well, I pay for the gas in my car, which I'll use to drive you home some time about now," she laughed.

"So..." Quinn snuggled closer after Santana had thrown the remnants of the pass in the garbage can. "We're playing full frontal? Like, we walk our way out of campus together?"

"Watch me," Santana let out before pulling her into a deep kiss filled with passion and hope for the future. "Come on, future Mrs Fabray, let me walk you to your carriage!" she sang, taking her bag and standing up.

"Mrs Fabray? I thought we'd take your name," Quinn wondered out loud.

Santana laughed for more emphasis. "Nuh-uh, Mrs & Mrs Fabray all the way," she explained, almost ordered as they passed through the door of her classroom together.

They walked out with their heads held high. Walked out as if they were entering their new life, a new life under the stares of students frozen in astonishment.

* * *

And the Lady Q. said yes! Happy? :D  
I feel like the story has come to a natural stop here. I may keep writing it, but using a flashforward in a couple of years. Vote in the review if you'd like that or if you feel like the story just ended as well. I'll count the pros and the cons and may the best win! Anyway, thank you all for reading! Writing for you is such a great pleasure !

Em.


	10. Good luck

_Santana obviously had hard time maintaining her stress levels. She stood by the altar, trembling slightly in anticipation. Her tight dress wasn't helping her breathing at all; it was terrible. She felt her lungs constrict and squeeze and willed her chest to not concave on this, the most important day of her life. Instead, she kept staring at the arch of flowers over the priest's head, hoping her torture wouldn't last for long. The right melody started and Isabel rubbed her sister's back to reassure her. She had to stay there, looking at the altar while her bride was supposedly making her way towards her, melodramatic sighs from their family and friends alerting her to Quinn's arrival. She heard steps, four very distinct feet walking, Quinn and her step-dad. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply into her cupped palms to calm herself down. _

The camera switched angles and panned to Quinn gliding down the aisles looking radiant. Santana couldn't never get enough of those images. She relieved the scene each time she watched them.

"But look how gorgeous you are!" she sobbed in front of the TV. "It's like you're not even real!"

"I think you're glorifying it a bit, love," Quinn shouting from the kitchen with a teasing chuckle.

"Look at you! Your hair, and your dress..." she dried her tears with a tissue, a habitual and necessary item when watching their wedding video. "It's like... a waterfall of fluffy love!"

"A waterfall of-" Quinn couldn't finish her sentence, her chuckles took her over. She took the plates she was filling while letting her giggles die and headed to the sofa.

"I looked so young," Santana weeped.

Quinn's laughter started with renewed vigor. "It was five years ago, not fifty! You pretty much look the same," she reassured sitting by her wife.

"Nuh-huh." Santana shook her head defiantly, pointing at her enormous pregnant belly.

"Besides that obviously, but that doesn't really count in the equation." Quinn smiled tenderly, pressing soft reverent fingers to the raised flesh.

"_I promise to love you tenderly, in sadness or in bliss, despite the sorrows or greatest happiness. I swear fidelity, loyalty and trust..." _Quinn repeated the priest's words on camera softly, reverently and devotedly. Santana held her tissue tight so as not to burst out crying with emotion.

"_Do you, Lucy Quinn Fabray, agree to take Santana Maria Adela Lopez as your beloved wife and cherish her for as long as you both shall live?"_

"_I do," Quinn breathed out, her face all rosy and voice tightened with love. _

Santana couldn't hold it in anymore, ugly sobs formed into two huge torrents on her cheeks. Quinn hurriedly put the plates down on the table, and went to get the remote, fighting Santana's tight grip. "Alright, alright, I think it's enough for today!"

"But you-... s-said yes!" Santana choked out.

"I know and you said yes as well, that's not brand new information, Mrs. Fabray!" Quinn defended herself, still fighting to get the remote that Santana was holding up and away from Quinn. "Santana, give me that damn remote!"

"No-o-o!" her trembling voice shouted. "Let me watch it! I'm an adult, I can do whatever I want!"

Quinn had enough. She climbed on the sofa carefully, so as not to harm her pregnant wife, and forcefully pulled the remote out of her hand, leaving behind a hormonal pouting wreck. She hurried to stop the tape, determined to end the pathetic display of sappy mood.

"And anyway, why are you watching this? It's not our anniversary at all," Quinn grumbled, while stuffing the remote between the cushions of the sofa so Santana couldn't fight to get it back.

"I'm trying to induce labor," she admitted, her eyes puffy from all the crying and nose a tad runny. She wiped at them with her forearm like a small child.

"What?!"

"I read online that deep emotions could induce labor and that's the only video that makes me cry like that." She bit the inside of her cheek. "But maybe I should get a good scare, I don't know..."

"You've got to be kidding me," Quinn said, wide eyed. Trying to contain her laughter, she gave her wife a plate with her dinner. "Sweetie, it's a matter of days now, maybe even hours..."

Santana started to fill her mouth with a fork loaded with food. "My due date was yesterday, I think I have every right to complain from now on," she let out between mouthfuls. "It's war time Quinn, war time... I'm willing to do everything it takes to get this bastard out of my stomach."

Quinn laughed, one hand reaching out to splay across the bump housing their baby. "Please hon, don't call our son a bastard... It's comfy inside there, don't blame him."

"You dirty, filthy,-" Santana started, growling in her belly's direction but being poked by Quinn within a second. "... lovely baby Arthur I love with all my heart..."

Quinn nodded, "...yeah. I prefer that."

"I just feel like I'm going to be pregnant forever," Santana admitted passionately, mentally and physically tired.

"Yeah I know sweetie, I know how that feels but it really doesn't last forever," Quinn said soothingly, putting her plate down and rubbing her wife's back.

In pure preggo-Santana fashion, she decided not to hear or listen to Quinn's reassuring words. She was stuck on her idea that she'd die in all her whale-like glory. Amen.

Realizing she wouldn't get anything from the brunette that night, Quinn gave up and used her best weapon. "Just think that if he really doesn't want to come out, you'll get induced in three days. Just focus on that, three little days. No more than three very tiny little days."

"PRAISE," Santana let out exasperatedly, rolling her eyes and already stuffing her mouth with another loaded forkful.

- o -

"My little baby is getting her PhD," Judy wept, quietly applauding in excitement as Quinn's guests began to take their seats in the row.

Santana waited, hands on her hips, for everyone to make themselves comfortable before taking the last seat for herself. This way, she wouldn't need to make everybody stand up if she needed to leave... hurriedly, just in case. She waited, sighing darly, feeling like a lampshade in her most comfy clothes, nothing like the tight dresses and tuxedos her pals were wearing. But did she really have a choice? She was feeling enormous anyhow, no need to make it worse with cling-on clothes.

One of Santana's co workers came by pushing his large-framed glasses up his nose, laughing at the woman who was obviously about to pop. "Wow Santana you lied to us, you're expecting two or what?"

"Shut it John, just... shut it," she let out through gritted teeth, closing her eyes in disgust as he unwittingly twisted the knife in the wound.

"Leave her alone," said another professor half-chuckling as she darted through rows of seats, because indeed, Santana's stomach was worth the sight. She kindly rubbed her friend's shoulder. "How are you?"

Santana glanced up at her with a murdering stare mixed with intense pleading, speaking volumes about her condition.

Her friend smiled tenderly. "Yeah last days are tough... When's your due date?"

Santana swallowed thickly, her unconscious speaking for her. "Two days ago..."

The professor rubbed her shoulder once more but this time, a concerned and deeply empathetic expression colored her features. As a mom, she very well understood Santana's feelings. This was why she didn't have any words of reassurance, no advice in store to ease her.

Santana eased out a slow breath, finally settling down into her seat, her body falling like a heavy weight on the chair.

The professor tapped her shoulder again, the only gesture she knew to show her support. "Hold on Santana, keep... keep holding on..." she said strongly.

Against all rules, (but who cares about rules when your wife is pregnant?) Quinn escaped backstage for a while to check on her.

"I got you this," she said into Santana's ear, surprising the woman and almost making her jolt in her seat. She handed a glass of water and a bunch of appetizers in a small napkin, depositing them in Santana's lap. "You comfy?"

"Oh gosh, you scared me! What are you doing here? Why aren't you with the others?"

"I seduced the secretary to know if I was at the top or bottom of the list," she said around a joking smile; crouching to the ground not to bother anyone with her large cap. "I can stay for a while with you."

"Aw..." Santana stroked her face lovingly.

"Will you sit with us until they call your name?" Judy asked, leaning around three different cousins who grimaced at the invasion of personal space.

"No, I'll have to go back when they start calling people," she answered, eyes on her wife who seemed to be fidgeting uncomfortably. "Santana please, keep your thighs folded until the end of the ceremony," she joked to ease her grimacing wife.

Santana cracked a smile, rubbing the top of her stomach. "He's just kicking... His head is down though, maybe I'd have to deliver on the stage..."

"Please no, not a second time," Judy pleaded, remembering her own daughter's delivery. "I beg of you, I really do!"

"What happened?" Santana inquired curiously, looking between her mother in law and wife.

"My waters broke right on the stairs after dancing on stage, whatever..."

"You... _danced?_ Like that?" she gestured to her own swollen body. "How?! I thought you were in the audience!"

"Nothing can stop me, even knocked up," Quinn joked, the corners of her mouth quirking up.

"Gosh..." Santana breathed out.

People on the stage started to hurry, an obvious sign that the ceremony would begin shortly. Feeling hesitant and weary to leave Santana alone, even though her parents were seated right beside her, Quinn stood up to head out. She kissed her wife on the cheek, embracing her own lucky charm. She left, hoping that during the hour they'd be apart, their son wouldn't decide it was time to take a trip down South.

Sitting on the stage, Quinn only had eyes for Santana in the audience. She scrutinized her every move, a sort of urgency had tainted her every reaction lately. She couldn't care less about the long speeches Yale's professors, the dean and the other directors made, repeating the same best wishes, the same pride for the nation and other bullshit that would bore even the little flies buzzing around the spotlights of the scene. It didn't take long before Santana began to doze off, rubbing the bridge of her nose to hide the fact she was indeed falling asleep. Quinn caught sight of her mother poking Santana in the ribs to wake her up. This time, Santana rubbed her bridge not out of sleepiness but annoyance, and Quinn had hard time not laughing, guessing her wife was grumbling inaudible Spanish words at her mother.

And then finally, after years spent studying, trying to use her talent to make the world forget the controversy over a student/professor marriage at Yale, it was a light hearted Quinn who grabbed her diploma from the director's hands. The end, that's what it felt like. The end of an era. She had no reason to come back to Yale ever again, the place where she had found herself again, had found love, got married and started her family. She knew very well what her future would look like. She had already found a very interesting position in a lawyer's office, which she'd start working at in a couple of weeks, after Arthur's birth - if he ever decided to come out of the womb. Routine would be made of diapers, nannies and sleepless nights. Her life about to drastically change, like a time bomb ready to explode as soon as she was able to hold her son.

Quinn waved at the audience once she had her degree in hand, in sheer tradition. Under her gaze, her family was applauding, a standing ovation of Fabrays. Even Santana, despite her unsteady posture out of obvious heaviness, had somehow managed to heave herself up to clap. This was her time to shine, her time to show the people who had said that she had traded her body to a professors to get her grades, that their couple would never last, that it was against morals and normality. She had in front of her, cheering and crying, a woman committed to her until the end of time. When she compared this with other students, their partners looked more like booty calls than true love. She felt proud of herself. She was where she always wanted to be, on a stage celebrating how well she had done in life.

As soon as she could, she escaped the photographers, handshakes and congratulatory words, to join Santana once more. The latter hadn't moved an inch, patiently waiting while she listened to her mother-in-law's mindless droning.

"What's really important is the breathing, Santana. The brea - thing. It helps you deal with the pain," Judy explained for the hundredth time.

"Thank you Judy, but we went to birthing classes, remember?" Santana smiled sweetly, but gritting her teeth all the while. That wasn't an easy task with so much hormones in her blood. "We practised all of it..."

"I know, but you can't believe those nurses. Most of them don't even have a kid already! How could they really know how it feels!"

Santana sighed, rubbing her wedding ring out of habit. _Must not hit wife's mother, must not hit wife's mother, must not-_

"And what a weird idea to give birth in a pool... Back in the day, it was the obstetrics chair and nothing else! Why did you choose that? That's so random!"

_It's not okay to kill Quinn's mom, it's not okay to kill Quinn's mom_. "Because I want to give birth at home if possible, and I feel like I'd be more comfortable in a pool than in my bed for that."

Judy stared at her daughter in law silently. It was clear she wasn't buying into what Santana was trying to sell. "But that's not very hygienic though."

"I'm not going to deliver into a public pool, God... It's clean water and a specific type of pool! Judy, this is how we want to do it, that's all. I want to avoid the hospital, even though it seems like I won't have the choice anyway so..."

"And Quinn, she's okay with that?"

"Yes, she's very okay with that, we decided together," she ground out, getting annoyed now.

Quinn finally appeared in her billowing cloak and holding onto her cap with one hand, her entrance akin to that of the messiahs. "Is everything okay?" she immediately inquired, catching sight of a light frown darkening her wife's eyes.

"Your mother..." Santana almost pleaded with puppy eyes, grabbing her wife's arms in despair.

Quinn shrugged. "Mom, I can't believe you're still making me repeat this ... her baby, her body, her delivery, meaning, none of your business!"

This time, Judy had nothing to add. "You were wonderful on stage, so gracious!" Judy sidetracked instead, erasing the scolding with her thrilled voice.

Quinn nodded knowingly to thank her mom. Her message had been obviously well received this time.

"We can go home, I said hello to everybody and did all the pics they wanted so we can leave if you want," Quinn offered, afraid that the ceremony had already been too much for her wife.

Before Santana even got the chance to say that she indeed wanted to leave, a crowd of coworkers, school board members and such, congregated around them like busy bees around a honey pot. Thus they were kidnapped to some well-meaning but obviously dense idiots home.

Hours later Quinn stood sipping a glass of champagne while Santana sat on a chair right by her side, both of them waiting for the agony to end. At some point, maybe these people would get tired of asking questions, congratulating them over... and over again for a baby that wasn't even born yet.

"So, the little angel is still not born?" Santana and Quinn heard for the hundredth time, and for the hundredth time they pulled their best smiles and most polite thanks. "So boy or girl?", "And you're doing good? Being pregnant is such a wonderful experience, the best actually...", "I hope you'll give him Yale as a second name, after all, this is a Yale baby!"

"We'll miss you, Quinn. The law section won't be the same without your excellence," the director admitted.

"Thank you, Sir."

"Well, if you indeed miss her, offer her to come teaching some other time," Santana pushed around a smile.

Lately, Santana had started to realize that Quinn wouldn't be around much anymore. She'd be working on the other side of the city actually, an entire twenty minute drive. No more lunch breaks together, small meetings between classes... Her time at Yale when she'd start working again would be a complete Quinn-free experience and the idea was terrifying. Consequently, any occasion was a good one to push Quinn to come back, to consider tutoring, lecturing or anything that would get the blonde to come back on campus, even for two hours.

"Apply if you want to! I'm sure we could find a lecture to do or some counselling for you."

Quinn chuckled, "I don't think teaching is my calling, but I appreciate the offer."

Discreetly, Santana grabbed her wife's arm and squeezed to get her attention. As soon as Quinn looked down, she understood that she wasn't feeling right.

She bent to get more privacy, whispering. "Do you want to go home?"

"My stomach is all hard," Santana admitted in her ear.

Quinn rubbed the raised skin covered by the loose purple dress her wife was wearing, feeling tense muscles under her palm. No need to check twice to understand that life was perhaps getting ready inside. "Contractions?"

"No, no... It's just..." she sighed. "I don't feel good..."

Quinn felt Arthur move despite the tense muscles encasing him. She knew those sensations very well. Her empathy was already kicking in. "Yeah, let's put you in bed as soon as possible, you'd be better lying than sitting," she said, already helping Santana to stand up.

"I'm really sorry Director, but we need to leave," Santana apologized kindly.

"Oh don't apologize, my dear... Take care of yourself, Santana. Let us know when we can start sending flowers," he joked lightly, shaking her hand.

"I honestly think you can already get ready," she let out, even though he wasn't sure if it was a joke or not.

"And good luck, Quinn. I wish my best," he shook her hand as well.

Quinn didn't waste any second, she was already walking her wife off the property. Her mind was repeating the same message: get home the soonest possible, put Santana in bed and wait to know if it was just a false alarm or if Arthur had decided to take the final plunge. And both of them hoped he had. He only had one day left, 24 hours or so, to give in and head out. If he decided that staying in was much more comfortable, the three of them could kiss the cool and peaceful delivery goodbye. They would be in for white rooms, white gowns, white sheets and an armada of white coats. And this was what they feared the most. Santana hated hospitals as a general rule. And Quinn remembered that the last time she'd been in a hospital for a delivery she had left it alone, stomach and arms baby-free.

"We might be close," Santana whispered as they settled into the car.

Quinn smiled behind the steering wheel. She took a deep breath. Beth was happy, she'd done good by her and there was no reason to rehash the past. She placed her unoccupied hand on Santana's tense stomach and bit her lip when she felt Arthur stir beneath her palm: his movements creating a ripple effect that she swore she felt right to her heart. She was okay. They were okay.

"I could really go for a taco, all the same. Is that normal?"

Quinn laughed and turned onto the road, taking her wife's hand and squeezing. Yeah, they were more than okay.

* * *

Tadaaa :3


	11. A new morning

Five years. That's a large amount of time. Five years ago, that had been exactly when Santana had said "Listen Britt, I think it's best for you if we don't talk to each other for a while..." A 'while' that had lasted five fucking years. Oh Brittany had it hard at first, obviously. Not a phone call, not a text, nothing. That had seemed incredibly unfair and nasty. But in the end, Brittany had realized that she would have never been able to move on without plumbing the depths. She had thrown everything away, the memories, Santana's phone number, all her texts and emails. She had rebuilt herself. That old pathetically in love Brittany was now ancient history, for good. In her despair she had found the greatest happiness, love. Someone willing to love her for who she was, what she was, and love her always. Finally, she was well and truly happy.

Time helping, she had ended up not thinking about Santana anymore. Only a bunch of times here and there, like a friend would think about another missing friend, nothing more. But she had no way to contact her so in front of the hard task to find a way to talk to, she had forgotten to try to give news, even just to say she was okay. However, when Brittany's boss had instructed she had a client to visit in a very specific area of New Haven, the address had rang a bell. She knew that street. That was where Santana used to live, five years ago. It was with a heavy heart that Brittany visited her client and then, when the meeting was over, she drove to the right house - if she remembered well. The house was similar, the same grey on the walls and the same white on the doors and windows. But she used to see only one car in the driveway leading to the garage, there was severals. The place seemed crowded, like on a family reunion or something. Playing with the wheel, Brittany debated if she should ring the bell nevertheless, too bad if it wasn't the family she was looking for.

Her heartbeat throbbed in her ears when she took a path to the front door. She passed in front of the mailbox and peeked, hoping to still find Santana's name on it. "Fabray", Brittany read. She frowned. She didn't know that name. She was so sad not to find the expected "Lopez" or "Lopez-something". Santana and her wife had probably moved. Shrugging, she went back to her car. After all, maybe that client wasn't the heaven sent opportunity to talk to Santana again. Right about to push the button to unlock her car, the front door opened.

A woman in a blue nurse outfit exited the house, obviously rushing. "I just forgot something in the car, Santana! I'll be right back in a sec'," she shouted through the open door in a light voice, obviously very optimistic.

Brittany stuffed her key back in her pocket. She watched the nurse from the other side of the road, the distance working very well to keep her protected from any suspicious spying. The nurse rushed to the last car in the alley, opened the trunk and looked for whatever tool she needed. She skipped back to the house and closed the door behind her. Brittany checked the street, nobody was watching. She was completely alone. Their kitchen window was tantalizingly opened. Worried and somehow curious, Brittany crawled like a cat through the street and went to peek inside.

Talk about the shock of her life. Her throat tightened when she caught sight of Santana walking around unsteadily and with swaying steps, hands riveted on her hips, looking at the ceiling and breathing deep. And mostly, her stomach looking like a balloon about to explode. She let out a deep moan, headed to the first table around to hold on to it. Quinn rushed to her side, slid her hand under her wife's shirt and rubbed her back to ease her a bit.

"_Focus on the breathing sweetie, remember, a long inhalation, a small pause, a long exhalation,"_ Quinn softly supported as her wife's breathing became erratic. She mimicked breathing with her until Santana complied. _"Yeah, just like that, you're doing great..."_

"Oh my god..." Brittany let out without realizing it, her hand glued to her mouth. Shocked, she kept staring.

The nurse, now very clearly taking the appearance of a midwife, hurried back from an hallway, dots of water everywhere on her gown. "_The pool's ready, you can go in whenever you want!"_

"_You want to go now or wait a little?"_ Quinn inquired in her softest voice. Santana nodded, from what Brittany could see.

A car came by and Brittany was forced to peek, in case someone would witness her suspiciously spying. She ran to the side of the house, hid behind a bush. Thank goodness, since the car parked right in front of the house, Santana's mother and sister rushing out and storming inside, screaming that they were finally there to lend a hand.

Now was obviously not the moment to pay a visit, yet all she wanted was to help as well. It killed her to go back to her car but she didn't have a sea of options in front of her anyway. She sat in her car, dumbfounded by what she had just seen. She started the car and drove away, sighing once in a while to swallow the shock of Santana having a baby. Brittany was thoughtful. Her mind couldn't stop pondering the news.

- o -

Hours later, Santana's family was finally picturing the end of her ordeal. Loud moans were reaching them in the living-room, clear sign that foreplay was well and truly over. Maribel couldn't wait anymore, her heart felt too tight as the time she'd meet her very first grandchild was getting dangerously closer.

"I really want to go check on them," Maribel admitted in Judy's direction.

"Tell me about it..." Judy sighed, biting the little skins of her nails. "But if I go, I think the first thing Santana will do when she's out of the pool, is bite my head off." she barely joked.

"Why's that?!"

"Quinn said I'm making Santana stress. She forbidden me to be around her. I really don't know why she said that but anyway, orders are orders," Judy shrugged.

Maribel let out a deep breath. "You know why, I'm gonna check for both of us. Let her try biting my head off, I'm waiting for her," she laughed, already on hey way.

She tiptoed to the room and quietly pushed the ajar door open. Santana was head first on the pool's edge, grasping it for support. One of Quinn's hand was lost in the tight grip. With her unoccupied hand, the blonde was making water run on her wife's shoulder to ease her.

"How's it going in here?" she whispered to the midwife.

"He's crowning," the woman said barely audible, the hand in the water ready to catch him.

"And you don't make her push?!" Maribel started.

"She only pushes when she feels like pushing," she kindly explained, all eyes on her patient.

"But the kid won't come out alone, she should push a little, I don't know..."

The midwife sighed, a little annoyed to have to explain anatomy and body reactions when they were reaching the most critical stage of labour. "Actually, the body pushes on its own-"

"Mom, get out!" Santana shouted between vital gulps of air. Before Maribel could apologize, Santana was in for a round of pushes her own body was ordering.

"Oh, that's better like that!" Maribel let out satisfied. "I thought she'd be yelling more than that for a natural deli-"

"Get-.._ugh_... t-the fuck...OUT," Santana gritted her teeth out of intense effort.

"Maribel, please," Quinn insisted softly.

Apologizing with light hand gestures, she got out closing the door behind her. Judy was standing straight in the middle of the living room, hands stuck on her heart.

"So?" the blonde woman hurried.

"Sounds like I'm gonna get my head bitten off... never mind," she laughed. "She's fine. It shouldn't be long anymore," she cooed.

Judy clapped, way too happy. A loud scream, long and trembling, escaped despite the closed door.

"10 bucks that's the head," Maribel chuckled.

Without another word spoken, both mothers understood themselves very well. They walked very slowly to the room, holding each other arms.

"_It hurts..._." Santana quivered through the door.

Neither Quinn or the midwife said anything. The mothers listened carefully, pricking their ears. Only soft moans filtered through. They shared thoughtful looks, wondering what was going on inside. It was almost all silent. Another round of moans came to their ears, until a mess of sounds resonated. Plastic folding, water moving, Santana breathing were all left to hear.

"_Hold your baby, come on!"_ the midwife let out all happy.

"Oh my god..." Judy whispered, jumping on the balls of her feet.

"Do we go in?" Maribel inquired, just as thrilled.

Judy shrugged. That catholic woman wasn't the type to disobey orders. "I don't know..."

Quinn laughed, with the most tender chuckles that had ever escaped her mouth. Maribel gestured in a very Mexican fashion she couldn't care less about orders. She pushed the door open again.

Had the water sounds come from the pool or the torrents of tears running down Quinn's cheeks, nobody could be sure. Wiping them with her fist like a child, she was trying to pull herself together but the task wasn't easy. Little Arthur was discovering the world, held tight against Santana's soaking wet shirt. The panting mom was lovingly cleaning him, softly putting handfuls of water on his little hair.

"Rub him a little, it's gonna make him cry," the midwife instructed around a smile.

She did as she was told, carefully stroking his tiny back. That didn't prevent his cries though. He poured his heart out against his Mama with fierce determination.

"Hello baby boy," Quinn sang, playing with his dark hair. One thing was sure considering the blonde's expression, she was taken on an enormous emotional rollercoaster, from memories of Beth leaving the hospital room all those years ago, to her son, her child, her family in front of her.

- o -

The day after felt like a hangover. A very pleasant one. Santana and Quinn were thrilled by everything. Everything sounded like an incredible adventure they were living, creating for their son. Quinn was mastering the art of making bottles in less than 2 minutes, Santana was getting introduced to a brand new extreme sport: powering through her own exhaustion. But what was cool, really cool, was the fact that they were finally on their own. No more curious mothers with righteous advices around, no more family requiring to hold their son.

Around noon, they were blessed, calm, relaxed moms chilling in their room. Santana was in a deep, peaceful sleep, while Quinn was feeding their son, softly singing in a rocking hair in a corner of their room. Could Quinn enjoy the moment any more that what she was? No. Finally, her motherhood was back and finally, she could do whatever she wanted with _her_ son. Because this baby, nobody would ever take him away from her. Months that she, they, had been waiting for him. In her heart had raised a sort of possessiveness over him which contrasted with her inner personality. But what could she do about that... She had a history and she felt the pain of it daily. She had a really hard time tolerating anyone other than her or Santana holding their son. Even her own mother holding her son was killing her. She wanted him in her arms all the time. And the fact that Santana was completely tuckered wasn't helping her insanity at all. She was almost alone on board and she was enjoying it a little too much.

All eyes on her son, she didn't realize Santana was stretching in the bed, softly waking up. "Is he eating better than this morning?" she croaked in a husky voice.

"Oh, you're up!" Quinn almost started. "Yeah, he's half way through the bottle."

Gazing, Santana took a better position in the bed, lying on her side and tightening pillows under her head. "I could stay like that forever."

Quinn chuckled. "Forever is not enough for me..."

The doorbell broke that moment of sheer happiness. "Let them ring, I told everybody I didn't want to see anyone today," Quinn barely joked. All eyes on the baby eating, she sang, "it's just you and us today, just you and us..."

"Maybe it's an emergency...? They would have called before coming," Santana worried.

The bell rang again. Santana sat up in bed, on her way to stand up despite the fact that her body still felt sore.

"Stay in bed, hon. I'll get it," Quinn said somewhat annoyed. She took Arthur's bottle out his mouth and carefully stood up to give him to Santana. He couldn't despise the ruffle more, he was already on his way to cry.

"I know baby, we're bad parents to disturb you during your lunch," Santana cooed, taking the baby in her arms. In a flash, she plugged the bottle back in his mouth, sidetracking any more crying.

"I don't know who that is but it better be worth it," Quinn grumbled half-joking on her way to the front door.

When Quinn opened the door, all air disappeared from her lungs and her eyes widened. "Brittany?!"

"Hey!" she said lightly, carrying a bag. "I was in the neighborhood and-"

Quinn cleared her throat. "Brittany, now's not exactly the best time to come by. It's nothing against you, really. I'm sure you have a decent reason to come here after so many years but... It's just that... Santana, she's resting. We just had a baby. Yesterday," she blurted in disconnect speech.

Winking, Brittany pulled a stuffed bunny out of the bag. "Yeah I know! I brought this, I didn't know if it was a boy or girl so I took something white!"

Quinn smiled, softened by thoughts of her son. "It's a boy. White works just fine. Thanks," she said stretching her hand to catch the bag.

Brittany kept the bag close to her, willing to negotiate. "I'm bringing good news, I won't stay long."

Quinn let out a concerned breath. "I don't know, Brittany... She just woke up, she needs to rest. I'll tell her to call you," she said already pulling on the handle.

Brittany stopped her, pushing the door. "It's important. Please..." Quinn's frown didn't soften. "Five minutes, just five minutes. I promise I won't stay more than that. Plus I have to drop this off," she shook her bag.

"I'll ask her first if she wants to see you," Quinn gave up, leaving the door ajar for Brittany to follow.

They headed to the bedroom, Quinn carefully closing the door behind her, leaving Brittany in the hall way.

"Who was that?" Santana inquired, not that she really cared.

Quinn didn't really know how to spill that her long time lost ex was standing on the other side of the door. "Brittany wants to see you."

Santana straightened in the bed in a flash. "Brittany? _My _Brittany?"

"I can tell her to come later if you don't want to see her now..."

"No! No, it's fine. Let her in," she agreed with an urgency coloring her voice. She was looking awful, tired and sleepy. But whatever. If Brittany was knocking on her door, five years after their horrible goodbye, it was probably more than important.

Feeling an awful dread inside, Quinn opened the door looking at the ground. Brittany being around _her_ son, during his second day of life, was the last thing Quinn wanted.

"Hey..." Brittany whispered while entering, a huge smile stuck on her face. "Congratulations..." she sang when she caught sight of the little baby finishing his bottle in her arms.

Santana giggled tenderly. "This is my son, Arthur," she pronounced, her voice full of wonder.

"Hello Arthur," Brittany came closer and stroked his cheek for a second. On the other side of the room, Quinn was gritting her teeth in disapproval but was keeping it quiet.

"How are you, Santana?"

"Tired... but happy! And you? It's been a long time..."

Naturally, Brittany went to take a seat on the chair closest to the bed, but that's the one Quinn usually sits on to rock their baby. In other words, Brittany was scoring points in the wrong category in Quinn's mind. Her patience was in a drastic decline.

Brittany obviously needed time to find her words after such a long silence between them. In the meantime, she focused on the little gift she had brought.

"Look what I got him," she put the toy on the bed around a tender smile. "Stroke it, it's super soft." Softly chuckling, Santana gestured her hands were too busy at the moment.

"Yeah sure, when he's done..."

"What's brought you here, Brittany?" she pushed.

Brittany took a deep breath. "I'm getting married and I wanted you to know."

"Oh really! Who's the lucky girl?" Santana beamed. Perhaps their friendship could have a fresh start.

"The lucky guy, actually," she admitted, looking for something else in the bag. She pulled a wedding announcement card and put it close to the stuffed bunny so she could read.

"Samuel Evans..." Santana wondered out loud if the name was recalling something. "I don't know him, where did you meet him?"

Brittany scratched her forehead, suddenly kind of embarrassed. "In my... depression support group?" she let out tentatively.

"Oh..."

"But it's fine! We aren't in it anymore, obviously. We're good, more than good. Great actually!"

Santana pursed her lips in an awkward smile. She wasn't sure how to pursue the conversation.

"You know the song, 'We found love in a hopeless place'?" Brittany joked.

"Well, finding love is the most important, right? Wherever you find it," she said glancing at Quinn standing by the door.

"Sure it is..."

Arthur filled the awkward silence, fidgeting and softly crying. He was getting annoyed. Santana put the bottle down, heaved her son. A lovely smell escaped his diaper, leaving no doubt about the nature of his whining.

"Quinn," she called. "Can you..."

The blonde left her intense watching posture to run to their rescue. She caught the pouting baby and held him close despite the nuclear explosion happening in his diaper. Love... That's what made her risk her life without a second thought.

"He's so little, it's hard to believe he's the master behind those atomic bombs," Santana kidded when Quinn left to change him.

Now they were all alone, a sort of heaviness settled in. They stared, looking for details on their features that might have changed during all these years. The damage wasn't big, Santana only had a couple more wrinkles, Brittany had darker eyes, from the one who had recovered from hell.

"I thought you'd hate me by now," Santana pierced through the silence.

"Oh no... I could never do that," Brittany admitted around a tender smile that made Santana uncomfortable.

The latter wondered if Brittany had found someone just to fill the void she had left behind. "What I did to you wasn't very nice... I'm sorry, I really am. I just didn't know how to deal with you anymore..."

Brittany giggled knowingly. "It wasn't nice indeed, but it was necessary though. Now I get it. And I wouldn't have met Sam if none of this had happened anyway, so in the end, we're all good," she winked, light and playful.

Santana scratched her head. "If you say so..."

"Santana, I'd really like for you to come to my wedding," she blurted, taking the plunge she had been trying to avoid. "You can come with Quinn and your son if you want. It'd mean a lot to me."

Santana's eyes widened. "You want... _us_ to come?!"

"Yeah. I want to share the best day of my life with my best friend," Brittany explained with the same simplicity that had always been coloring her voice, as if those five years spent apart have been five days.

"Brittany, I don't understand... How can you come knocking on my door as if nothing had happened? I broke your heart..." A hint of guilt resonated through her words.

"You did not, I broke it myself. I decided to keep myself blind and keep hoping when everything was screaming that all we had was a game. Because that is what it was, right? A game?"

Santana sighed. "I don't know... All I know is that it wasn't working. We were a good team but we weren't meant to be, that's how I'd define it," she said softly.

"Yeah, a good team playing a game," Brittany confirmed around a smile. "But life isn't a game and I feel like it's time for our team to live in the big world. I miss my friend," Brittany admitted, opening her heart. "I miss sharing stuff with you. I'd like to share the intense happiness I have with Sam, just like I'd like to know about your happiness with your family. Like friends would."

Santana was deep in thought. She wondered if Brittany's idea was a good one, if their worlds could combine now everything was so different. They weren't the young girls playing cat and mouse anymore. They had families, spouses, jobs, bills to pay. And to be honest, Santana's mind was in the fog. She was still very much on an emotional rollercoaster from welcoming her son, she needed time to think Brittany's comeback though.

"What about if we start with a coffee before the white dress?" she offered kindly what seemed the best option.

Brittany smiled wide, satisfied. "I'd like that."

The door opened, Quinn carrying Arthur back in. "Mister's all clean!"

Santana was already stretching her arms to get him. "Look what Brittany got you, buddy!" she sang, grabbing the stuffed bunny. She stroked his cheek with it, beaming at the little baby taking his ease against her.

Brittany shrugged deeply, happy. She tapped on the armrests, motivating herself to go. "Anyway, I promised I wouldn't stay any more than five minutes and I think my time's already up," she kidded lightly standing up.

"Oh come on... what did you say to her?" Santana laughed in Quinn's direction.

"Only that you need to rest which is super true," her wife answered around a shy smile.

"Hey, I was joking," Brittany chuckled. "I'd better go anyway. I'm sure that little man would like to be cosy with his mothers," she cooed bending over the bed to stroke his cheek as a goodbye.

"Britt," Santana called with that name she hadn't used in years. She held her pinkie out. Old habits died hard, even five years later. "I call you when I have some free time again."

Beaming, Brittany grabbed her finger with her own. "Great! Take care of yourself, Santana."

"I will. I'm in good hands." Santana eyes finding Quinn's across the room.

Smiling, Brittany passed by Quinn to get out of the room, the latter following. "Oh stay there, I know the house, don't worry. Bye!"

Santana waved and the door was softly being closed. She let out a deep breath. "That... was unreal."

"What did you talk about?" Quinn inquired taking a seat in _her_ armchair where Brittany had sat, getting control back over _her_ land.

"She wants the three of us to attend her wedding," Santana almost chuckled.

In a world full of possibilities, Quinn going to Brittany's wedding was the very, _very_ last thing Santana would have ever thought would be happening.

"Me as well?!" Quinn nervously burst out laughing. "Oh gosh..."

"Well, do you want me to go alone?" Quinn stopped laughing right away, throwing a death glare, speaking volumes about what leaving her wife in her ex's company for hours felt like to her.

"That's what I thought..." This time, Santana was the one laughing.

* * *

Let me know if you want me to keep writing this story! I'm a little short of plot ideas so feel free to suggest! xo


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